


innocence abroad

by bespokenboy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Body Worship, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Mild Voyeurism, Nipple Play, Smoking, Smut, Threesome, basically an excuse to write copious amounts of suharem sex, mentioned mental illness, semi public sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joonmyun finds love, friendship, and passion far away from home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beijing

 

 

Early mornings are Minseok's favorite. The streets are quiet, and smog fades the city into pastel hues of blue, gray, yellow, and red. Flashes of green streak past in his peripheral vision, sparse strips of organic life lining the crowded roads.

Minseok pulls over and lights up a cigarette to fill his lungs with warmth just like he does on every chilly spring morning. Heat licks his curled palm as he protects the flame from the wind. He taps the end and leans against his taxi, letting orange embers scatter to dusty gravel. He tosses the cigarette butt into a gutter, and the lingering glow dies away slowly.

Minseok takes a deep breath, feeling alive.

He has barely driven to the end of the block when he is hailed by a frenzied looking man clutching onto the handle of a suitcase with one hand and waving at him furiously with the other. Minseok brakes by the curb and helps the man pack his suitcase into the trunk. He catches a glimpse of the man's luggage tag, which reads "Property of Kim Joonmyun."

"Thank god," Joonmyun pants when he swings the door open and clambers inside the taxi.

"Where to?" Minseok asks.

"Can you, um, take me...here?"

He fumbles with a scrap of paper tucked in his suit pocket and unfolds it for Minseok to see.

"Got it," Minseok says with a curt nod.

Joonmyun grins nervously, and he bobs his head in gratitude.

The streets are crowded, but it's no more chaotic than usual. At least, no more than what Minseok is used to, though his passenger seems to be alarmed by the rowdiness of Beijing traffic. Minseok turns sharply, veering away from an oncoming vehicle at the last second. He digs the heel of his palm into his horn and smirks when he hears a startled intake of breath from the man sitting beside him.

"Foreigner?" Minseok asks in Korean.

The man's eyes widen in surprise, and then answers sheepishly, "Is it that obvious?"

"You look terrified," Minseok chuckles. "And I read your luggage tag."

"Really?" His face falls in disappointment, but he brightens up almost as quickly. "Wait, you can read Hangul?"

"Well, I was born in Korea. I'm Korean."

"Ah, me too! And that's where I'm from, too!"

"Is that right?" Minseok asks, taking a sideways glance at Joonmyun, who is beaming happily like a kid.

"I used to work in Huafei's Seoul division, but I was just recently transferred to the company headquarters in Beijing."

"Must be exciting, working for such a big company."

Joonmyun shrugs and glances out the window at the rush hour gridlock surrounding their vehicle.

"I'm just a temporary worker, so my job isn't that interesting, to be honest. I just do whatever's needed, wherever I'm needed. I'm just really grateful for the chance to travel and live abroad. I've spent years learning Chinese, but this is my first time actually living in China."

"Now that's gotta be exciting."

"And kind of terrifying, yeah! But what about yourself? How did you end up in China?"

"I was born in Seoul, but my parents split when I was a kid, so I moved with my mother to Beijing."

"Wow, that must have been quite an intimidating experience."

"It wasn't too bad–"

Joonmyun flinches when Minseok presses his horn with a quick pulse to alert a pedestrian crossing into their path. He brakes to let her pass and then digs his toes into the accelerator. Joonmyun jerks forward, and his palms slam against the dashboard.

"–since I was young enough that it wasn't too hard for me to pick up Chinese," Minseok continues. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah. That was just kind of...abrupt."

"Ah, sorry, I'll try to be more gentle."

"No, it's okay! I'm just not quite used to–"

"How aggressive Beijing traffic is?" Minseok finishes for him. Joonmyun nods meekly, and Minseok asks, "Besides the traffic, how do you like China so far?"

"It's...too early to tell," Joonmyun admits with an apologetic smile.

"I understand," Minseok laughs. "It's chaotic, especially in the city, but it's also quite beautiful if you take the time to appreciate it. And the food here's great. Not quite spicy enough for my taste, but still."

"Yeah," Joonmyun sighs, leaning forward to peer up at the surrounding skyscrapers towering above the streets. Sunlight glints off their mirrored surfaces, and Joonmyun blinks the glare out of his eyes.

"Looks like we've hit rush hour traffic. Might take awhile," Minseok apologizes. "Hope you're not in too much of a hurry."

"Don't worry about it, I've got all morning to move into the company dormitory. I don't have to report at the office until the afternoon."

"Oh, that's good, then. Not too much stress for your first day."

"Yeah!" Joonmyun agrees excitedly. "That's exactly what I thought, too."

"I just realized—your dormitory, it might be the same one as..."

"As who?"

"Well, I can't really say for sure, but there's an interesting customer of mine who I think lives in the same dorms as you."

"What's his name?"

"It's not really my business to give or take names, but I'm sure you'd notice him if you met him."

"Oh? Um, how?" Joonmyun asks, still confused.

"He's got this...aura about him. He's a very charismatic guy. And in your case..." Minseok turns to scrutinize Joonmyun's widened eyes, narrow nose, and shapely lips. "He might make a pass at you."

"W-what?" Joonmyun stammers, feeling heat rush to his face.

"You're a handsome guy, Mr. Kim," Minseok remarks entirely too casually.

"A-ah, um, thank you! You are too!"

Minseok smirks. "Cute. You're exactly his type."

Joonmyun's lips tremble as he tries to smile, but his heart is suddenly beating much too quickly. It's quiet in the taxi, and he clears his throat out of nervousness.

"I'm sorry, was that too forward?" Minseok asks, more amused than apologetic. He knows that Luhan likes the easily flustered ones the most. "I couldn't help it. I'm glad that I found you first."

Unsure of how to respond, Joonmyun ducks his head and nods shyly.

"So, um, what time do you think it will be when we get there?"

"At this pace of traffic, I'd give it another twenty minutes or so."

"Twenty?!"

"It's not that far away, but it doesn't seem like we'll be moving much. Too many cars. It would probably be faster just to walk the rest of the way."

"I don't think that's a great idea for me...I would get lost," Joonmyun admits.

"Take a nap, then," Minseok suggests. "You must be tired from your early morning flight."

"Now that you mention it..." Joonmyun yawns. He had been too overwhelmed by the new city to realize the fatigue of travel settling in.

He leans his head against the window and almost instantly dozes off with his mouth slightly ajar. A trickle of saliva leaves a shiny streak from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, and Minseok is caught between finding the sight of him endearing and repulsive.

Joonmyun wakes up with his mouth feeling dry and his tongue numb. He rubs his face with his shirt cuff in alarm when he realizes that he had drooled in his sleep, glancing furtively at Minseok. The taxi driver spares him the embarrassment by looking straight ahead as he announces, "We're here. Need a hand with your luggage?"

"No, I've got it. Thanks for the ride! It was nice meeting you!"

Minseok watches Joonmyun in his rearview mirror as he struggles with his suitcase and waves goodbye at him. Minseok waves back as he drives off, and Joonmyun's reflection shrinks in the distance.

 

 

 

"You took your time getting here," a stylishly dressed young man remarks when Joonmyun checks in at the office that afternoon.

"I was told that I could spend all morning moving into my dorm room as long as I showed up in the afternoon?" Joonmyun says uncertainly. His voice tilts up at the end, as though he's asking a question.

"Well, I hope you realize how lucky you are that Luhan isn't here."

"Luhan?"

"I suppose I should make introductions," the man sighs, pushing his round frames up the bridge of his nose. "I'm Kim Jongdae."

He holds out a hand for Joonmyun, who grasps it and wills his palm not to sweat. But thinking about it only makes more sweat prick his skin, and he catches a flash of disgust in Jongdae's expression as he glances down at Joonmyun's clammy hand.

"Luhan's the executive director of Marketing. He's our boss," Jongdae explains. "He's rather rude and quite stingy, but he's good at his job. Just stay on his good side, and you'll survive."

Joonmyun is terrified of Luhan already. "So when do I get to meet him?" he asks cautiously.

"Hopefully, never. He's at a meeting in Shanghai at the moment, but once he comes back, the less you see of him, the better."

"Oh. Um, why is that?"

"Those who see him often are the ones he either really likes or dislikes. But the thing is, it's almost impossible to tell which you are. He gives everyone a hard time, regardless."

Jongdae gives him a bright smile, which Joonmyun returns weakly.

"But don't worry too much," Jongdae assures him. "Come to me if you have any Luhan problems. I'm his personal assistant—his proxy and right hand man, but you can also think of me as his handler."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. Luhan sounds...scary," Joonmyun confesses.

Jongdae takes a step back and tilts his head slightly, looking Joonmyun up and down with an appraising eye. "You know what, I have a feeling he might actually like you."

"R-really?"

"You're cute," Jongdae grins. "For some reason you strike me as his type."

"That's the second time someone has told me that today!" Joonmyun giggles in disbelief.

"Is that right?" Jongdae laughs, a bright, shimmering sound. "Well, let's not waste any more time. I've got a lot of people and places to show you, and we don't have all day."

Any hopes of having an easy first day are ruined by the time Jongdae leads him to the final stop of their tour: Joonmyun's cubicle.

"You know, I usually don't give one-on-one tours," Jongdae tells him accusingly as Joonmyun settles into his mesh-backed chair.

"Am I special then?" Joonmyun grins.

"More like late," Jongdae scoffs. "The other new recruits came in first thing this morning, and you didn't arrive until after lunch."

"They told me I didn't have to report until the afternoon!"

"If it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is," Jongdae advises him sagely. "No matter what you're told, the earlier you get here, the better."

"I...I apologize. I'll remember next time."

"No worries. You'll just be a bit behind on paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

"Today was a paid workday for you, what did you expect?" Jongdae lifts up a stack of forms from Joonmyun's desk. "Finish these by tomorrow. This pile has got some heft to it, so I would try to start as soon as possible."

"But it's past five, won't the office be closing in half an hour?"

"I don't know how things worked in the Seoul division, but you leave when you finish. Just know that all the lights on our floor shut off automatically at 7:30 pm, so try to finish by then, or be prepared to take your work home."

"Just the lights on our floor?"

"Luhan always insists on saving energy, so he implemented an automatic shut-down system," Jongdae sighs. "It's impossible to be environmentally conscious in a corporate building, but he's adamant about that kind of thing."

"Wow, really? I love saving the earth, too!" Joonmyun says enthusiastically, suddenly perking up. Bit by bit, Joonmyun's image of his enigmatic boss is falling into place. He is intimidated by and fascinated with him all at once.

"Then you two should get along just fine. A warning, though. Luhan has total reign over our department, so you also won't be able to find any tissues, paper towels, or toilet paper on our floor. He thinks it's a waste of resources, so you can either bring your own or be prepared to beg from another floor."

"Toilet paper...towels...got it...I think," Joonmyun says, slightly dazed.

"It's a lot of information, I know. Here's my number if you ever need it, and here's Luhan's too, just in case."

Joonmyun enters the numbers into his phone, thanks Jongdae, and begins his assigned paperwork.

If it had been in Hangul, Joonmyun might have been able to finish it within an hour or so, but scrutinizing unfamiliar Chinese characters soon has his head swimming with angry strokes and dashes. The lights flicker in warning at 7 pm, and by 7:30 Joonmyun is packing his belongings away with the aid of his phone's flashlight setting.

The company dormitory is just down the block from the office building. Joonmyun follows the orange glow of streetlamps, passing by the bustling, impatient nightlife opening its eyes even in the business district.

There is only one other person in the elevator when Joonmyun enters it, a smartly dressed young man slightly taller than Joonmyun himself. The man's lips are slick and shiny, and his hair is mussed deliberately, like someone had grabbed his hair with the intention of making him look wrecked.

Joonmyun leans in to press the button for the third floor and catches a whiff of sweat mixed with something musky—if lust had a scent, Joonmyun thinks. He hears a light cough, and Joonmyun suddenly realizes that he's still bent over with his finger jabbed into the button, trying to inhale more of the stranger's heady aroma.

"S-sorry." He stammers the apology in his native tongue out of nervousness without even realizing it until he hears the answer, "It's okay," in quiet Korean.

The man smiles at him gently, and Joonmyun stares at him in shock. The smile folds into a slight frown when the elevator stops on the third floor and the doors slide open, but Joonmyun doesn't move.

"I think it's your floor," the man says quietly, startling Joonmyun into flinching and rushing out of the elevator without so much as a glance behind him.

As he fumbles with his room key, Joonmyun's heart beats rapidly for no apparent reason. It's not as if it's the first time Joonmyun has ever laid eyes on an attractive man. It must have been his scent, or perhaps the shock of hearing his fluency in Joonmyun's native language.

The living conditions of each dorm room improve as the floors progress upwards. Joonmyun's level is so low that there isn't a single bathtub on his floor. There are communal showers, but he has to go up to the fourth floor to take a bath. Even though it's a communal bathtub, nothing feels better after a long day of work than taking a hot soak.

He slides into the water until he's chin-deep and steam kisses his cheeks. He closes his eyes and lets the warm water relax his muscles as his mind goes blank. His breathing slows, and he slips even further into the water until tiny ripples are lapping at the tip of his nose.

 

 

 

_An hour earlier:_

"You're alone?"

"It's been a week since the last time I rode in your taxi, and that's the first thing you have to say?" Luhan asks incredulously.

"Well, you're usually not alone when you call me up," Minseok points out.

"Next time I won't be."

"Didn't get lucky tonight then?" Minseok jokes half-heartedly.

"I just got off my flight, you picked me up from the airport, idiot."

"Had a good flight?"

"It was turbulent as hell because of this damn rainstorm that followed us all the way back to Beijing. Now it's fucking cold and rainy, and I'm gonna catch pneumonia in this fucking weather."

"There's the Luhan I know and love."

"Pull over."

"I can't."

"Down the next alley to the right is a parking lot. The store should be closed by now, and parking is free."

"I...can't."

"Like I said, next time I won't be in here alone."

"You're filthy."

"I'll be in the backseat, and I might just have another lady with me next time. That gave you a shock when you picked me up last time, didn't it?"

Luhan leans in with his arm wrapped around Minseok's headrest and his lips inches away from the driver's jawline. His Beijing dialect is a silky purr that drips into Minseok's ears.

"But it still turned you on, right?" Luhan continues. "You always hear everything from the front seat, and I know you _always_ wish it was you instead."

Minseok parks in the empty lot that Luhan instructed him to, but he doesn't switch off the ignition.

Luhan's voice is even closer, and his lips brush against the shell of Minseok's ear as he whispers, "Did you touch yourself as soon as you dropped us off? Or did you wait until after you cleaned up the mess we made in the backseat?"

"I..." Minseok begins involuntarily.

"Wait, I know." Luhan runs a fingertip down the slope of Minseok's jaw. "You touched yourself while driving us, right? I don't blame you, she was a lot more vocal than the rest. She didn't even try to keep it down."

Minseok keeps his silence, and Luhan chuckles, "Naughty boy."

 

 

 

_An hour later:_

Thoroughly satiated, Luhan leaves Minseok a tip, much to the driver's distaste. He's feeling more generous than usual, so he presses two ¥20 bills into Minseok's palm rather than just one.

Luhan leans his head against the mirrored wall of the elevator, admiring the work Minseok had made of his hair. But as soon as the doors have shut, they slide open again for a slight, nervous looking man. He presses the button for the third floor, apparently not noticing the button's orange glow indicating that the elevator is already headed for the third floor.

A new neighbor, then. Luhan tries to hide his irritation for the sake of a good impression, but it's hard when the man is behaving so strangely. Almost as if he's inching closer and trying to smell Luhan. Weird. He follows behind as the man hurriedly searches for his room, which is, incidentally, adjacent to Luhan's.

Luhan takes his time getting ready for his bath. Even with Minseok to satisfy his body, today's irritations require no less than a long soak to alleviate.

It certainly doesn't help that Luhan enters the baths just to find the man on the verge of drowning.

 

 

 

Joonmyun wakes up to his world spinning out of control. His eyes focus, and he finds a face close to his and fingers gripping tightly to his shoulders. He realizes that the world isn't spinning—rather, he's being shaken violently by a half-naked man.

His surroundings settle to a standstill, and the hands loosen around his shoulders. Joonmyun's heart lurches when he recognizes the man holding onto and staring intensely at him. It's the same man from the elevator, the one with the long lashes and ardent eyes who makes his heart beat faster for no reason. Had he saved him?

"So annoying," the man grumbles.

"W-who's annoying?" Joonmyun coughs.

"You are. Who fucking falls asleep in the bathtub and almost drowns? Are you a fucking half-wit?"

"S-sorry," Joonmyun sputters.

He doubles over, wheezing, and Luhan hoists him onto his lap, thumping him soundly on the back. More bath water is dislodged from Joonmyun's corrupted lungs. Gasping for breath, Joonmyun reaches out to touch Luhan's cheek.

"Thank you," he whispers, attempting a smile.

"The fuck are you thanking me for."

"You, um, saved me. I'm really thankful. I...I owe you my life."

Luhan looks away uncomfortably when he realizes that Joonmyun is being completely earnest.

"Yeah, yeah," Luhan mutters. "Just don't let it happen again or you might drown for real next time, stupid."

"Joonmyun. My name is Kim Joonmyun."

"Whatever, you're still an idiot. I'm going to take a bath now, so get the fuck out of here and go drown in the shower or something."

He can't help it. The more embarrassed Luhan gets, the more rudely he behaves, like some kind of defense mechanism. Inevitably, Joonmyun interprets the agitated set to Luhan's jaw as actual disgust and bows hastily, wrapping his towel around his hips. He forgets his pajamas and rubber slippers in his hurry to leave, but he's too terrified to turn back.

The linoleum flooring is painfully cold against his bare feet, and he nearly slips several times on his way back to his own floor. The only thought that keeps him upright is the fear that Luhan might find him if he fell and was unable to move. By the time he returns to his room, he’s still dripping wet, shivering, and his nipples are rock hard. The day's events have been overwhelming to say the least, so he flops onto his bed in exhaustion and falls asleep almost immediately.

 

 

Joonmyun's general ineptitude baffles Luhan, who rolls his eyes as he watches Joonmyun flee. The blushing man brings with him only his towel, leaving behind his pajamas and rubber slippers in a neat pile next to the edge of the bath.

"Fucking moron," Luhan hisses aloud, even though nobody else is around.

It's only their first time meeting, but Joonmyun is proving to be particularly troublesome in a way that Luhan can't quite explain.

With any luck, he'll only have to deal with Joonmyun maybe once or twice a day at a maximum. Luhan usually gets home much later at night, well past midnight at the very least. He works hard and plays hard, since he has the convenient ability to function on very little sleep without affecting his health. The only thing that has suffered is his personality.

It's not that Luhan wants to avoid Joonmyun because he dislikes him. If Luhan's being entirely honest with himself, it's probably the opposite. He's not used to the way that Joonmyun had looked at him, with sheer admiration and gratitude. Luhan knows how to handle people who dislike or even hate him, but Joonmyun makes him feel something he can't name, something not entirely unpleasant, but not exactly comfortable either.

Which is utterly ridiculous, feeling this unsettled after such a brief encounter. But for some reason, Luhan can't stop thinking about Joonmyun's narrow, but sturdily built frame or the pink tint that flushed his skin in the bath. That fucking idiot.

 

 

 

Jongdae leans on Luhan's desk, holding his coffee just out of reach. When Luhan tries to make a grab for it, he holds it away even farther just to see his boss scowl.

"Don't fuck with me," Luhan growls, and Jongdae gleefully takes a sip from Luhan's coffee before setting it down.

"When do I ever?" Jongdae laughs. "How was the meeting?"

"Terrible," Luhan replies irritably. He curses under his breath when the bitter drink scalds his tongue.

"Good, good. How'd you sleep last night, though? You seem even more irritated than usual."

"Fucking awful," Luhan declares emphatically. "This fucking dimwit moved in who's probably never taken a bath on his own in his life, and he would have fucking drowned last night if I hadn't saved his doe-eyed rosy-cheeked ass."

Jongdae stares at him, unsure of whether Luhan is joking or completely serious. What he said made very little sense, even coming from Luhan. A light knock from the doorway interrupts his ruminations.

"Oh hey, there you are! Come on in!" Jongdae calls out. "You made it bright and early this morning, I see. Luhan, this is Kim Joonmyun. I gave him a tour of the office yesterday–"

"Did you fucking catch a cold last night?" Luhan demands.

"W-what?" Joonmyun asks in a small voice.

"You went to bed without wearing pajamas or even drying your hair, didn't you?"

"Wait, um, how did you know?"

"Who do you think delivered your pajamas to your doorstep, idiot? And your hair's a fucking mess. If you're gonna catch a cold, be more fucking considerate since the walls are so thin I could hear you sneezing all night."

"S-sorry!" Joonmyun yelps. "I mean, um, thank you? For the pajamas, but also sorry. About everything else..."

"Luhan, you're scaring him," Jongdae whispers. "Look at his knees, they're actually shaking."

Now that he knows they live in the same dormitory, Joonmyun realizes that this man, Luhan, must also be the one the taxi driver had warned him about. But if both the taxi driver and Jongdae told Joonmyun that he was Luhan's type, why is Luhan looking at him with such distaste? Perhaps if Joonmyun acts a bit cuter...

"What the fuck are you doing?" Luhan spits out with an even more pronounced frown.

"Aegyo?" Joonmyun responds uncertainly.

"Ah, um, Chinese people don't really do aegyo," Jongdae advises him, thoroughly confused by whatever is going on between Joonmyun and his boss. "How about you get back to work now that introductions have been made?"

"Yes, of course! Thank you, Jongdae and L-Luhan!"

Once Joonmyun bows out of the office, Jongdae asks under his breath, "What's your problem? You scared the poor guy to death on his first day."

"That's my job, to intimidate the newcomers."

"Terrorize, you mean. But don't you think you went a bit overboard with Joonmyun? He's cute."

"That's the problem," Luhan grumbles.

 

 

 

Beijing glows at night. The evening before, Joonmyun had been too focused on finding his dormitory building to appreciate the luminous neon landscape surrounding him. Streetlamps twinkle like stars above glittering stores and shopping centers.

"Beautiful, huh?" a voice behind him asks.

"What? Oh, yeah! Hey Jongdae!"

Jongdae grins and offers a cigarette, which Joonmyun declines with a wave of his hand. A hidden flame flickers in the palm of Jongdae's hand, making his fingertips glow red.

"Have you eaten yet?" Jongdae asks, breathing out gray wisps of smoke from the corners of his mouth.

"No, I was going to make some noodles when I got home."

"I'll take you somewhere nice, my treat."

"No, no, you really don't have to–"

"Nonsense. You haven't tried Beijing style duck, have you? There's no way anyone can visit Beijing without trying Peking duck at least once."

"There's really no need–"

"Joonmyun. Hyung. Can I call you hyung?"

Joonmyun nods, and Jongdae continues, "I feel bad about what happened today."

"What do you mean?"

"That asshole Luhan," Jongdae explains emphatically. "I don't know why he was being more of a prick than usual today, but you deserve a lot better."

"T-thank you? I don't know what to say..."

"Just say yes, and this will go a lot more smoothly."

"Fine, then, but just this once! And you have to let me pay next time!"

"Who said there was going to be a next time?" Jongdae teases.

"Oh, um, sorry, I didn't mean to assume–"

"No need to be so nervous, it's not like this is a first date or anything! We're just going to dinner as co-workers! As friends."

Jongdae drapes his arm comfortably around Joonmyun's shoulder and guides him to the curb, where he flags down a taxi. For some reason, Joonmyun's heart skips a beat when Jongdae's hand slides down to his waist as they climb into the taxi together.

He isn't sure what it means when Jongdae's fingers wander down to his hip and hold him closer when a sharp turn jerks Joonmyun away from him. It's more than protective, it's affectionate. But during the entire trip, Jongdae chatters away with the taxi driver like Joonmyun isn't even there.

Which is fine. They're just going to dinner as friends, after all.

"Anything you'd like?" Jongdae asks as they pore over a menu with their heads huddled together.

It feels nice like this—accidentally brushing knuckles and bumping knees under the table. Almost like they're a couple.

After Jongdae places their order and before the dishes arrive, a waiter stands sentry at their table and recites a rapid-fire spiel in Mandarin that Joonmyun only catches bits of. When the waiter leaves, he looks questioningly at Jongdae who tells him, "He was just explaining the history of the restaurant and the dish. This is actually one of the oldest Peking duck restaurants in the city, which they take a lot of pride in."

"Wow, that's really amazing..."

"As far as restaurants go, this place isn't bad. It's one of the most important ones because of its history, but I'll take you somewhere even better next time."

Next time. Joonmyun likes the sound of it.

Joonmyun watches with fascination as the golden-brown roasted duck is carved before their eyes with precise incisions that slice the tender meat into thin strips. They are neatly arranged on a ceramic platter while another waiter lights a votive candle beneath the plate to keep the meat warm during their meal.

"You eat it like this, hyung.”

Jongdae peels a thin pancake from the stack and arranges strips of duck, cucumber, and onion on it before drizzling the fillings with sweet dark bean sauce.

"Open wide," Jongdae instructs as he folds the duck into the pancake. He parts Joonmyun's lips with the pad of his thumb and guides the food into his mouth.

"I could have done that myself," Joonmyun whines.

A tickly feeling crawls in his stomach when Jongdae grins at him and fondly cups Joonmyun's chin. Joonmyun looks away shyly. "You don't need to take care of me," he mumbles.

"I know. But that's just the kind of person I am," Jongdae says almost apologetically.

"There you are!"

They look up when they hear the sound of a familiar voice. It's Luhan, weaving between tables and bumping into both waiters and diners on his way to Joonmyun's table. Close behind him is a smaller, slightly scruffier looking man.

"Oh, it's you!" Joonmyun calls out, standing up to greet Minseok.

Luhan's grin slips when he realizes who Joonmyun is addressing. "You know Minseok?" he demands.

"Yeah, he picked me up from the airport!"

Luhan's eyebrows bunch together, and Minseok mumbles, "You're not the only person I drive around."

"How did you know what I was thinking?" Luhan asks.

"I just know."

"Why don't you join Jongdae and me for dinner?" Joonmyun suggests, grasping Minseok's hand enthusiastically.

"Can't, still on duty," Minseok apologizes, shifting uncomfortably. "Luhan just wanted to find you, so I'll be heading out now."

"You were looking for me?" Joonmyun addresses Luhan incredulously.

"Yeah, yeah, you weren't at your dorm when I checked earlier."

"Jongdae took me to this restaurant."

"No shit."

"So, um, what did you want, Luhan?"

"Never mind, let's go, Minseok."

"But—you came all the way here! You found us! How did you even find us?"

"Wasn't hard, Jongdae always takes people here for first dates."

"First...dates?"

"As friends," Jongdae clarifies. "I always take my friends here first."

"Oh. Right, friends," Joonmyun echoes in disappointment.

Luhan fixes Joonmyun with a hard stare before turning on his heel to leave.

"So dramatic," Minseok mutters. "What are you trying to act all mysterious for?"

"Why don't we grab a bite to eat while we're here?" Luhan suggests. "Hungry?"

"I said I can't. If you really want someone to eat dinner with, why don't you ask Joonmyun next time? Since you seem to like him so much."

"Is it that obvious?" Luhan asks quietly.

"I can tell that you're crazy about him."

"Crazy, huh?"

"Fucking insane," Minseok laughs dryly.

Joonmyun invites Jongdae into his dorm room after dinner with the pretext of sharing a kettle of green tea.

"My room's pretty sparse," Joonmyun apologizes as he rummages in his pocket for his keys. "I wasn't sure how long I'd be staying here, so I rented the cheapest dorm available."

"That explains why Luhan lives just next door to you, then," Jongdae laughs. "He can more than afford an apartment, but he so would choose to rent the cheapest room possible."

"Yeah," Joonmyun agrees, cracking a smile at his boss's expense.

"Hey, what's this?"

Jongdae plops onto the bed and lifts up a large cubical object covered in pastel yellow gift wrap. There is a shiny silver bow on top with a note affixed to it.

" _To keep you warm_ ," Jongdae reads. "Were you planning on giving this to someone?"

"I've never seen that package before," Joonmyun says slowly with a confused frown. Did someone break into his room to leave him a gift?

"Open it!" Jongdae urges.

Joonmyun cautiously slides his fingers inside the folds to break the tape holding the gift wrap in place. The pastel yellow paper falls away to reveal a box containing a thickly padded duvet stuffed with goose down. He opens the box and pulls the duvet out, feeling the plushness under his palms like clouds. This kind of luxury Joonmyun could never afford on a temporary worker's salary.

"The note didn't have a name on it." Jongdae pokes curiously at fluffy white pockets of goose down. "Any idea who could have given you that?"

"Maybe."

 _To keep you warm._ Luhan mentioned stopping by Joonmyun's room earlier that evening. Joonmyun wouldn't put it past him to dabble in breaking and entering.

"Luhan's so weird," Joonmyun muses.

"As an expert on Luhan, I can confirm this," Jongdae agrees.

 

 

 

It's one of those mornings when Luhan is so engrossed in his work that he fails to notice his assistant's presence by his desk.

"So it was you?"

A cheeky grin tilts the corners of Jongdae's mouth when Luhan glances up in surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"The gift on Joonmyun-hyung's bed. You broke into his room to give it to him, didn't you?"

"How did you know about that? Were you in his room?"

Jongdae's grin grows wider. "So what if I was? A better question is, how did you get into his room without his permission?"

"I asked the landowner. Why were you in my employee's bedroom?"

Jongdae cackles and spins around on Luhan's office chair as the Luhan digs through his filing cabinet. He grimaces and slams the drawer in frustration.

"What do you need?" Jongdae asks, suddenly serious.

"Twenty copies of a document that doesn't exist," Luhan groans. "I have a meeting in an hour."

"I'll take care of it, you can finish up your presentation for the rest of the hour."

"Who said that I needed to finish it at the last minute?"

"When don't you?" Jongdae sighs. "I'll be in my office. Or in the copy room. Actually, just call me if you need something."

Jongdae spends so much time with Luhan that his own office is almost redundant. It's smaller than Luhan's and farther away from any source of natural sunlight, but Jongdae retreats to it now and then to take advantage of its privacy.

He's almost finished typing when he hears a knock on the door.

"What do you want," he begins irritably without looking up.

"Was this a bad time?" Joonmyun asks worriedly. "I'll just go..."

"No, sorry, I thought you were Luhan. Give me five minutes."

Joonmyun loiters uneasily outside of Jongdae's office, hoping to not get caught wasting time. He hides his face by staring in the opposite direction when he sees Luhan approaching. Out of the corner of his eye, Joonmyun catches a glimpse of Luhan frowning at him and returning to the direction he came from.

"Hey." Jongdae taps him on the shoulder with a rolled up packet of papers. "Can we walk and talk?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"So what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Well, um, you said I could come to you with my Luhan problems right?"

"Of course. This way." Jongdae guides him gently with his fingertips against Joonmyun's back.

"Jongdae, I..." Joonmyun lowers his voice to a whisper as Jongdae leads him into the copy room. "I'm in love with Luhan."

"Say again?" Jongdae asks pleasantly. "Didn't quite catch that last part."

"I'm in love with Luhan."

"Are...are you sure?"

Joonmyun's chest tingles as Luhan's name leaves his lips. He chews on the inner lining of his cheek and nods, thinking about how he had been intoxicated by Luhan from the moment they met in the elevator. The gift was an unexpected display of consideration that had given Joonmyun the barest hope that Luhan felt the same way.

"I wasn't sure if he even liked me," Joonmyun whispers. "I'm still not sure."

"You should just be upfront with him, then," Jongdae says airily. "Just tell him how you feel."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, of course. Luhan is brick-level dense. You could build the Great Wall of China with a few thousand of him. He's a simple guy. Very straightforward."

"Um, but what about that taxi driver guy he was with last night? Minseok?"

"I'm not sure exactly what's going on between them, but they’ve known each other for a while. Luhan seems to think that Minseok is his personal chauffeur or something, and he’s the only one Luhan trusts to drive him anywhere."

Joonmyun's lips silently mouth "oh" and Jongdae quickly adds, “That isn’t to say they’re in any kind of relationship. If Luhan was interested, they’d probably be dating by now. And if they were dating, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. So give it a shot!"

"I'm not sure..."

"As far as I can tell, Luhan seems to really like you, too. There's no way he could say no, trust me."

Though Jongdae hates to admit it, Luhan does seem particularly interested in Joonmyun. It's difficult for him to express his feelings openly, but Jongdae can tell that Luhan is making an attempt to do so, in his own idiosyncratic way. Jongdae has no choice but to put aside his own feelings for Luhan's sake. Because Luhan always gets what he wants.

"Thank you so much!" Joonmyun beams. "Is there anything at all I can help you with?"

"Could you collate and staple these packets?"

Joonmyun's smile thaws the icy bitterness creeping up on Jongdae, further proving the fact that Jongdae could never dislike Joonmyun even if he tried. As if that needed proving.

 

 

 

Pacing is something Luhan has been doing a lot of lately. Pacing, sighing, and wringing his hands when no one is around. He only allows himself to be this vulnerable when he's sure that no one can see. And everyone in the department knows better than to interrupt when Luhan's door is closed.

"What do you want," he barks when he hears the door open behind him.

"Luhan?" Joonmyun begins uncertainly.

“Joonmyun?” Luhan's frown deepens, and he turns to face Joonmyun. "What do you want?"

Anxiety slurs his syllables as his dialect slips into his speech, making his words round and slippery.

"This is for you. Jongdae told me to drop these off at your office."

"That disaffected son of a bitch," Luhan grumbles, feeling more agitated by the second.

Joonmyun waits for a thank you, but none comes as Luhan tosses the stack of papers onto his desk. A tense silence crawls over them, and Joonmyun realizes that Luhan is glaring at him.

"B-before I go, one more thing," Joonmyun stammers out before his courage crumbles. "I really like you, Luhan. Would you be interested in–"

"Are you fucking with me?" Luhan demands.

"Pardon?"

"Did Jongdae put you up to this?"

"I'm not sure why you're so suspicious of Jongdae, and I hope I haven't said anything to offend you but–"

"Go to hell. And tell Jongdae the same."

Joonmyun's eyebrows knit together in frustration and confusion. Luhan's response is completely bewildering to him, especially without any background knowledge of his unstable moods. Joonmyun opens his mouth, searching for something to say, but the words won't come.

He turns on his heel and strides angrily out of Luhan's office.

 

 

 

If Jongdae had any doubts about the quality of Luhan's character, all his suspicions are confirmed as fact by the time he finds Joonmyun in his cubicle just before their lunch break.

"So, how did it go?" Jongdae asks in a tone aimed at sounding interested and supportive.

"Terribly."

"You sound like Luhan. What happened?"

"I confessed to Luhan, but he got angry for no reason and told me to go to hell."

"Hey, it's alright. The more Luhan likes someone, the rougher he talks. I’m sure he was just putting up a tough act."

"No, it actually sounded to me like he didn't want me there. I don't think he likes me at all, I don't know what I was thinking when I thought he did."

"He might be stressed out. Maybe try talking to him again later? He's an asshole, but he's usually not _that_ rude."

"I feel like I've heard that before," Joonmyun laughs bitterly. "It's okay, I'm not that masochistic."

He sighs, and it comes out shaky. He's never quite sure how to deal with rejection, and it hurts a lot more than what he remembers of it.

Jongdae has never seen anyone look more like a kicked puppy, so he takes Joonmyun by the hand and all but drags him away from the office. Despite Joonmyun's protests, he takes him to a family owned restaurant across the street, where he treats him to local dishes.

Fragrant pork buns, eggplant, pickled radish, shrimp dumplings, and rice are piled onto Joonmyun's plate, and Jongdae urges him to eat by insisting that his next raise hinges on how much he can consume in one sitting.

"Do you even have that kind of power?" Joonmyun groans when the original white of his plate finally peeks through the food piled on top of it.

"Nope!" Jongdae grins, his cheeks bulging with rice. “But don’t let any of this food go to waste, alright?”

The lunch cheers Joonmyun up considerably. They go for a stroll around the block afterwards, but Joonmyun tenses up when they catch a glimpse of Luhan staring down at them through his office window on their way back.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah," Jongdae sighs. "Don't worry about him. Actually, if I were you, I would be glad that I escaped being Luhan's significant other."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I think you can do a lot better."

Jongdae reaches for Joonmyun's hands and lightly rests his fingertips against his knuckles. When Joonmyun doesn't resist, he slides his fingers down and slots them through the spaces between Joonmyun's fingers.

"We've got a few minutes left before we're due to return. Want to head up to my office? It's a little more private there," Jongdae suggests with tilted eyebrows.

Whatever chemistry that existed between them is reduced to a purely physical attraction by the time they reach Jongdae's office. Joonmyun is buzzing to the fingertips with psychic tension and grabs Jongdae by the narrow waist as soon as the door is locked. There is an unspoken agreement between them, a tangible promise.

"I'm almost never in here, but I'm glad this space is being put to good use," Jongdae laughs.

Joonmyun smooths Jongdae's chestnut curls away from his forehead, and suddenly Jongdae can't speak as he watches the corners of Joonmyun's mouth draw back softly. His pearly teeth peek through his lips in a gentle smile, and a long dimple creases his cheek. This close, Joonmyun's lazy smile is too much for Jongdae to bear, so he fixates on the tiny mole above Joonmyun's pink lips and then gives in altogether, closing his eyes.

He feels Joonmyun's lips move against his, brushing tongue against tongue. And then they're close, too close, skin against fabric against skin with only a couple thin layers of poplin and polyester blend between their thudding chests.

"People always say I'm too nice," Joonmyun whispers roughly. "Is it okay if I'm not nice for a little bit?"

Jongdae nods, and a thrill runs through his body when Joonmyun pushes him backwards onto his desk. He's the kind of man Jongdae likes the best, the type that Jongdae didn't initially take him for. He's shaping up to be a man of action, rather than one who is paralyzed by uncertainty or fear of rejection. Assertive, but not aggressive. Stable. In short, the complete opposite of Luhan.

The edge of his desk digs into Jongdae's thighs, and his keyboard is knocked askew. Joonmyun's mouth is warm on top of Jongdae's as drags his hand down Jongdae's concave back, running his fingers across the knobby buttons down his spine. And then Joonmyun is palming at Jongdae's crotch, bringing Jongdae to his tiptoes as he lifts his hips for more contact.

"Shall we?"

"You tell me," Jongdae gasps.

"I'll make it quick."

Jongdae braces his palms against his desk for support while his belt is unfastened and his pants are unzipped, falling to a puddle of fabric around his ankles.

"This is so wrong," Jongdae laughs in disbelief. "What are we doing? How did we end up here?"

"I've always wanted to do this,” Joonmyun admits.

"You're unbelievable. I would never have expected this of you."

Joonmyun hums thoughtfully with his thumb pressed to the ridge just below the tip of Jongdae's cock. Jongdae groans when Joonmyun rubs the spot carefully, with measured speed and pressure, squeezing the base of Jongdae's cock with his other hand.

"Quiet," Joonmyun murmurs. "Or our coworkers will hear."

"You like this kind of play, don't you?" Jongdae grunts.

He has to cover his mouth with his own hand when Joonmyun guides Jongdae's cock to his mouth, smearing precum on his lips and leaving the skin even pinker and shinier than before. And then Jongdae's cock is enveloped with mind-blowing tightness as Joonmyun hollows his cheeks and suctions his mouth, unveiling his unexpected expertise in pleasing a lover.

"I can't believe this, I can't believe this," Jongdae repeats like a mantra as Joonmyun sucks and rubs and fondles him until Joonmyun is spitting Jongdae’s semen into a wad of tissues.

The rest of the day passes in a hazy blur, without either of them really remembering how they ended up in Joonmyun’s bed with him bending Jongdae in half, his heels on Joonmyun's unexpectedly wide shoulders as he fucks Jongdae into the mattress.

"The walls are thin," Joonmyun grits out when Jongdae lets out an embarrassingly high whine. "Luhan lives next door."

"Shit," Jongdae hisses. He turns his head and bites into the pillow, filling his lungs with the scent of Joonmyun's coconut breeze shampoo.

Joonmyun exhales sharply and pulls out to jack himself with lewd slaps until he leaves a trail of semen splattered along Jongdae's chest and abdomen.

"The, um, showers are across the hall," Joonmyun mumbles awkwardly, avoiding Jongdae's eyes as the embarrassment sets in.

"The walk of shame can wait for a bit longer. And, by the way. It's okay if you pretended I was Luhan this whole time,” Jongdae says tenderly.

"W-what?"

"I know you're hurt. And I was a means to an end. I understand. Luhan's the same way."

"I don't know if I like that comparison," Joonmyun sighs, burying his eyes into Jongdae's shoulder as the younger man holds him close.

By the end of the week, Joonmyun receives a letter notifying him that he has been transferred to the company's Wuhan branch. Underneath the letter is a terse handwritten note of apology signed by Luhan.

 

 


	2. Beijing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joonmyun finds love, friendship, and passion far away from home.

 

A couple of taxi rides and an eleven pm flight later, Joonmyun finds himself in the same situation: alone in an unfamiliar city where he has no one.

Even though he is the youngest, he is the first in his family to live anywhere outside of Seoul. The Kim family business has its roots planted firmly in the city, but Joonmyun always knew that he wanted to break free. In a way, this is what he has always wanted, to do something nobody else in his family has ever done before. It’s lonely and beautiful.

Stepping into the domestic flight terminal after an hour spent in the sky, Joonmyun is struck by how quiet it is. It’s not just that the airport is emptier this late at night; even when Joonmyun was waiting for his flight in Beijing there had been bustle. But arriving in this new city is a complete change of pace. It’s peaceful, especially after the tumultuous few days that had just transpired.

Luhan had become even more reclusive after the first night Jongdae had spent at Joonmyun’s. He successfully managed to avoid Joonmyun and was even able to keep himself from taking out his frustration on Jongdae. Progress. Everybody but Joonmyun seemed to understand that Luhan’s agitation stemmed from jealousy.

“Joonmyun?” a voice calls out from the arrivals lobby. “Joonmyun?”

A man with neatly trimmed black hair and low slung pants looks from face to face, trying to figure out which passenger is his.

“Hey!” Joonmyun calls out, waving at him. “I got an email from Mr. Zhang that he would get me a ride, did he send you here?”

“I am Mr. Zhang,” the man chuckles, extending a hand. “But you can call me Yixing.”

Joonmyun freezes because this man, Zhang Yixing, is the chief executive of Huafei’s entire southeastern China division. He wields even more authority than Luhan, though he looks infinitely more gentle. And he’s currently carrying all of Joonmyun’s luggage and hauling it into a subcompact.

“Did Luhan tell you about lodging plans?” Yixing asks as he backs out of the parking space.

“No? He didn’t tell me anything. We haven’t really talked in the past few days,” Joonmyun admits.

“Oh, right. He told me about the circumstances of your dismissal. You had an affair with his assistant, right?”

“Wait, how did you...?” Heat rises to Joonmyun’s cheeks in embarrassment, and his collar is suddenly too tight.

“He and I go way back. We both signed onto the company in Beijing around the same time. I came to Wuhan because there were bigger opportunities down here, but he stayed in Beijing. But it’s good for him there. He’s lived in Beijing all his life, he needs that kind of stability.”

“Oh. Um, about the...affair. I promise it won’t interfere with-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yixing dismisses. He wipes away Joonmyun’s apprehension with a wave of his hand. “You know why you’re here, right?”

“Are we ever really _here_?” Joonmyun responds automatically.

For a moment, Yixing is silent. And then he bursts into laughter. “I like that. I was almost a philosophy major, you know. Questions like that are great fun. Anyways, I guess that Luhan didn’t tell you that you’re going to be my personal assistant. And you’ll be living with me, too.”

“But...why?” is the only question that comes to Joonmyun’s mind.

“Since you’re my assistant, I’ll be transparent with you. I don’t need an assistant. But Luhan wanted to make sure that you would have a stable, relatively easy job and that I would be able to take care of you for him.”

Again, all Joonmyun can ask is, “Why?”

“He’s very protective of you, if you hadn’t already realized that.”

“Sure doesn’t act like it,” Joonmyun mumbles.

“Yeah, he’s kind of weird about things like this. It’s difficult for him to express himself sometimes. We’re still half an hour away from my apartment, so how about you take a nap? It’s late.”

Joonmyun feels like he’s been through this before.

Yixing’s apartment is decorated in soft, earthy tones with flowing curtains that allow warm light to filter in through the window the next morning. Lining his shelves is evidence of Yixing’s travels: kitschy snow globes, wood carvings, glittering quartz stones, and elaborate sea shells. On top of one shelf is a conch shell as large as Joonmyun’s head.

A spicy aroma wafts in from the kitchen, and Yixing announces that breakfast is ready.

“Just something simple,” Yixing explains, carrying two bowls of noodles floating in vermilion broth over to the dining table. “My mom is from Szechuan, so I’ve always liked to cook things on the spicy side. But you’re Korean, so you don’t mind the heat, right?”

“Not at all!” Joonmyun affirms.

Work doesn’t feel like work. As Yixing had told him when they first met, Yixing is good enough at his job that he doesn’t need an assistant. He’s naturally independent and so scientifically efficient that Joonmyun is hard-pressed to find a way to be helpful to Yixing. Instead, he helps out with other projects around the office. His coworkers love him.

And at home, Joonmyun cohabits with Yixing more cozily than he could have hoped for. They take turns cooking, introducing each other to traditional hometown dishes. There are two bedrooms, so they both have privacy when they need it, but Joonmyun and Yixing prefer spending time together after work whenever they can. It's comfortable.

On the evenings when Yixing can't make it home until much later, Joonmyun explores Wuhan on his own. Their apartment complex is on the edge of the city, a bus ride away from the Yangtze River, so Joonmyun has taken to strolling along the river on dusty blue evenings.

By the time a month has passed, Joonmyun wonders whether or not he should invest in a bicycle to feel the wind on his face as he pedals along his favorite path, a paved stretch of gray concrete along the river. But Joonmyun has no idea how long he will stay in Wuhan. It's a pleasant enough place to live, but he finds himself missing that slice of excitement he had tasted during his brief stay in Beijing. It had lasted only a moment on his lips, and Joonmyun can't help but crave more.

 

 

 

"Any special plans for today?" Yixing asks casually on a Friday afternoon as they're leaving the office.

Instead of taking their usual route leading them to the outskirts of the city, Yixing continues to drive towards the heart of it.

"No, nothing that I can think of. Why?"

"Good, because we're going to do something special for your birthday."

"Wait, my birthday?"

"You couldn't have forgotten your own birthday, could you?"

"I mean, no, but how did you know it's my birthday today?"

"Does it matter?" Yixing hums, pulling into the parking lot of a swanky restaurant. “Let’s celebrate.”

Yixing picks a full-bodied red wine with a bouquet complex from age. Joonmyun balks when he peeks at the price tag of a bottle, but Yixing orders it without blinking.

He pours a glass for Joonmyun and then one for himself, proposing a toast between the two of them. Joonmyun takes a sip and feels a moment of brief bitterness on his tongue before a flash of heat warms his chest.

"This wine is way too sophisticated for me to fully appreciate," Joonmyun apologizes after his second glass. "I’m afraid you've wasted your money."

"I don't really get what the big deal about this wine is either, but let's just try to finish this bottle while we're here."

It might be a terrible idea for Joonmyun to drink any more because his skin is already flushed, and his vision is starting to get hazy. Regardless, Yixing presses on, and they finish the bottle in no time.

"Are you okay to drive?"

"This is nothing," Yixing drawls. "You need a bit of alcohol in your system before you start driving, just like your car needs gasoline."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Relax, I'm just going to drop you off at a hotel down the road, and I'll call a taxi to take me home if it makes you feel better."

"Alright. But wait, why am I staying at the hotel by myself?"

"You won't be by yourself, not exactly. Just wait, things will make more sense in a bit."

But things still don't make sense even when Joonmyun is sitting on a hotel bed by himself, waiting. What he's waiting for, he can't even anticipate because he doesn't know what that something is. He kicks off his shoes and socks to be more comfortable, and he wiggles his toes to amuse himself until there's a knock on the door.

"Joonmyun, right?" a tall, good looking young man asks with a hopeful smile. He speaks in Korean to greet Joonmyun, who accepts his handshake with surprise.

"Hi," Joonmyun responds uncertainly. "And you are...?"

"Jongin." A shy smile draws up the corner of his mouth, and he turns back to say, "Come on in, guys. This is the room."

Joonmyun hadn't even noticed the men loitering in the hallway behind Jongin, all wearing matching white tank tops and pants. They file in as Jongin leads Joonmyun back onto the bed. One by one, they introduce themselves: Sehun, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol. Each is as attractive as the next, though Joonmyun can't take his eyes off Jongin, who appears to be the one in charge.

"Can you, um, take your clothes off?" Jongin asks bashfully.

"What?! Why? What is going on here?" Joonmyun demands. He would never say no to having a quorum of hot men in his hotel room, but there are a few questions that need to be answered first.

"Oh, nobody told you? Um, we're just going to give you a massage. So, if you could please undress in the bathroom and come back out in a towel..."

"How much do I need to take off?"

"Everything," Baekhyun calls out.

Joonmyun shoots Jongin an incredulous look, and the young masseuse smiles apologetically.

He waddles out of the bathroom with an ivory towel wrapped tightly around his hips. It's too tight, and Joonmyun can feel their gazes dropping to where the terry cloth fabric is straining against his cock. Jongin helps him into the bed, where he settles face-down, exposing his back and hiding the erection he will inevitably get from being touched by five attractive men at the same time.

He doesn't even know why all five of them are necessary.

"I got it," Jongin says and holds out his hands for Sehun to dispense a splash of massage oil. It's a fragrance Jongin designed himself, a comforting blend of vanilla, lavender, and chamomile.

He smooths his palms across the pale expanse of Joonmyun's back, and then he sets to work at the knots of tension in the muscle. While he kneads Joonmyun's lower back, Kyungsoo takes on his upper back and Sehun works on his shoulders, leaving Baekhyun and Chanyeol to rub Joonmyun's feet.

Joonmyun's eyes are closed as he relaxes and allows the men to massage the tension out of his body. He lets out involuntary moans of appreciation, oblivious to the hushed snickers exchanged above.

"Can you turn over for us, please?" Jongin requests politely.

Joonmyun abandons his better judgment because the massage feels so good that he can't say no. He allows them to roll him over onto his back, and his eyes are closing again when he feels a pair of smooth, supple hands on his pectorals.

"Ah!" Joonmyun gasps when Jongin's thumbs brush over his nipples.

"Interesting," Jongin murmurs. He gently circles Joonmyun's nipples with the pads of his thumbs, and Joonmyun bites his lower lip, trying not to squirm.

Light fingertips trace a path down Joonmyun's muscled abdomen, and that's when Joonmyun loses it.

"S-stop, no, that tickles!" he squeals out between peals of giggles.

"A light touch, huh," Chanyeol smirks.

Baekhyun and Kyungsoo resume massaging his shoulders, and Sehun takes over rubbing his chest with massage oil. Jongin's fingers wander down to the thin patch of hair trickling down from Joonmyun's navel to the towel beginning to unravel from his hips.

He traces the crease between fabric and skin with his fingertips, brushes over Joonmyun's sharp hipbones, and then Jongin's fingers dip below the terry cloth to the pristine white flesh underneath.

"We're going to make you feel good, Joonmyun," Jongin tells him. "May I?"

"Ah, um, sure," Joonmyun agrees, unsure of exactly what kind of massage he has gotten himself into.

The towel falls away from his hips, and Joonmyun flushes in embarrassment because the tip of his stiff cock is already sticky with precum. Jongin folds the towel into a neat, clinical square and tells Joonmyun to "lift, please" as he slides the cushion under his tailbone.

Jongin folds Joonmyun's knees and gently nudges his legs apart. He pumps more massage oil into his palm and slides his fingers around. With all the hands on top of Joonmyun at once, he doesn't realize what Jongin is doing until he feels a slippery finger at his entrance.

"Relax," Jongin tells Joonmyun when he yelps, kissing his inner thigh in comfort. "Baekhyun, can you please help him so he's not too tense?"

Baekhyun nods and bends over and tilts Joonmyun's chip up to drag the tip of his tongue along his plush lower lip. He sucks on the pink swell, and Joonmyun parts his lips to deepen the kiss.

Meanwhile, Jongin has slipped a finger into Joonmyun’s entrance down to the third knuckle and is in the process of fitting another finger in next to it. Joonmyun swivels his hips to accommodate the squeeze and to seek friction against his cock, heavy and livid against his belly. Jongin briefly considers touching his cock, but settles on a better idea.

"Shall we see if we can make Joonmyun cum without touching him?" Jongin suggests.

Grunts of approval follow, and Joonmyun begins to add his own input, but Jongin's prodding fingers stroke up against his prostate, leaving him unable to make any noise other than a whimper.

On either side of Joonmyun, Sehun and Chanyeol each take a nipple to pinch and roll and tug between their fingers. Joonmyun’s back arches, and he wails to no one in particular, “N-no more, I can’t–”

Sehun leans in to flick his tongue against a pebbly nipple, and Joonmyun squirms, grabbing Sehun’s hair for something to hold onto. Chanyeol observes Joonmyun’s responsiveness and sucks on Joonmyun’s other nipple, leaving him writhing and moaning on the bed. Between Jongin rubbing insistently at Joonmyun’s prostate, Baekhyun sucking on his tongue, Kyungsoo leaving hickeys on his neck, and Sehun and Chanyeol overstimulating his chest, Joonmyun’s entire body is flooded with a dull, aching pleasure that leaves him limp and spent.

“We did it, guys!” Chanyeol exclaims, holding his hands up for high-fives all around.

The other guys squeeze together on Joonmyun’s bed to watch television while Jongin and Sehun carry Joonmyun to the shower. He leans against Sehun for support while Jongin washes Joonmyun’s hair with shampoo and scrubs the oil off his body. And then Jongin wedges himself into the shower stall to help Sehun jerk Joonmyun off one more time.

By the time Joonmyun returns freshly bathed and clothed in flannel pajamas, the others are sharing a pizza and soda on his bed.

“Where did you get the food?” Joonmyun asks.

“Uh...room service?” Baekhyun tells him. “There’s another pizza on its way, so just hold on a minute. Unless you want a bite of mine.”

“No thanks. But who is even paying for all this? Yixing?”

“I’m not really good with Chinese names, but I don’t think it was a Yixing,” Jongin frowns.

Joonmyun takes a shot in the dark. “Luhan?” he asks.

“That’s it!” Jongin confirms, his eyes lighting up. “I don’t know how he found us, but he hired us and made arrangements to bring us here. Luhan bought us plane tickets from Korea to Beijing, and his assistant helped us buy train tickets from Beijing to Wuhan. They were both really nice, but Jongdae complained about his boss the entire time.”

“I-is that right?” Joonmyun asks shakily. It seems that every answer he gets only brings up more questions.

Jongin invites Joonmyun to sit on the edge of the bed with him, pushing Chanyeol and Sehun away when their limbs flail in a tussle over the remote control. “Yeah. Luhan did a lot to bring us to you. Paid a lot, too. Is he your boyfriend or something?”

“No!” Joonmyun denies too quickly, his heart flipping at the thought.

“Alright,” Jongin laughs. “Whatever you say. Just wondering, since most people don’t go to such length for this kind of gift.”

“Luhan’s just really weird.”

The trash is cleared out after the six men finish eating almost as many pizzas. Joonmyun isn’t sure whether the masseuses are supposed to leave, but when they climb into his bed and snuggle like spoons under his sheets, he just goes along with it and lays down next to Jongin.

It’s strange how comfortable he feels squeezed in bed with these men he had only just met, but given the circumstances he decides not to dwell on it. Joonmyun falls asleep with his cheek pressed to Jongin’s chest and his legs tangled with Baekhyun’s, whose chin is resting on Joonmyun’s shoulder. It’s crowded, but cozy, and Joonmyun is glad to spend his birthday in the arms of someone warm, even if that someone isn’t quite Luhan.

 

 

 

“So how was it?” Yixing asks when he picks Joonmyun up from the hotel the next morning.

“How was what?” Joonmyun mumbles sleepily.

“Whatever Luhan arranged for you. What did he actually give you? He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Um. He hired a bunch of guys from Korea to give me an erotic massage?”

“Really?” Yixing laughs delightedly. “I’m jealous. He only sends me a KFC gift card for my birthday, and I’m one of his closest friends. One of his only friends, in fact.”

“How many friends does that guy have?”

“Including me, two.”

 

“What a surprise.”

"He's not an easy guy to get close to. It's complicated. Since we've got the day off, want to grab some breakfast from Hubuxiang Lane? We can walk and talk."

If there's anything Joonmyun has come to love about China, it's the street food. Yixing orders his favorite breakfast combination of _doupi_ and hot soy milk. He wraps the plastic cup in a napkin to protect Joonmyun's hand from the heat before giving it to him. Joonmyun punctures the plastic seal with a straw and takes a scalding sip.

"Ah!" Joonmyun hisses. "I think I burned my tongue."

"Exactly how old are you again?" Yixing sighs in exasperation.

Joonmyun pouts and takes a bite of his serving of _doupi_ , savoring the warm sticky rice and seasoned pork cubes inside its thin, flaky pastry shell. They pass by vendors selling colorful fruits and freshly steamed buns. Joonmyun makes a mental note to try a bit of everything at some point before he leaves Wuhan, whenever that time may come.

The street is quieter as they reach the end of the lane, which curves towards the Yangtze River. It's a sunny day golden around the edges, and the warmth shining on Joonmyun's face makes him feel unbelievably alive.

"So...Luhan isn't mentally...average," Yixing begins carefully.

“Yeah, he seems really smart!”

“Well, that too. But what I mean is… It might not be my place to tell you this, but I think it’s something you should know, especially since everything is such a mess already.”

“What? Is there something wrong with Luhan?”

“He doesn’t tell anyone this except the people he’s really close with because of the stigma, but he’s been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder for a few years now.”

“Oh,” Joonmyun says, unsure of how to respond. “I think I’ve heard of that.”

“Yeah. He absolutely hates it about himself, and sometimes I wish I could do more as a friend to help him, but there’s only so much you can do when it’s so hard to understand what goes on through his mind. Sometimes he lashes out at people for no reason, and from what I can tell, it’s because he’s scared, confused, and angry most of the time.”

“I see. That explains...a lot, actually.”

“It does,” Yixing agrees with a sad smile. “It’s a difficult illness to live with, especially since his behavior seems so erratic to most people. Everyone just thinks he’s an asshole. And it makes Luhan think that there’s nobody in the world he can trust, except for maybe Minseok and me.”

“You know Minseok?”

“Yeah, he used to work for Huafei, too. The three of us became interns at the Beijing headquarters the same year. He and Luhan were actually in a relationship at some point, but it got too intense for Minseok, so he quit his job and moved across the city to get away from Luhan.”

“Geez. But they’re friends now, right?”

“More or less,” Yixing shrugs. “Luhan was devastated when that happened, so he’s been working really hard to change himself, but it isn’t easy. He’s still pretty emotionally unstable, but he’s trying to relate to people better, and he’s starting to have more trust in others. I know he acts awful sometimes, but he really tries to be a decent person. Or at least a normal one. It’s just difficult for him to express that good side of himself.”

Most people don’t send each other lavish secret gifts just to show that they care, but Joonmyun realizes that it’s Luhan’s way of expressing his affection. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen that side,” Joonmyun admits.

“Although,” Yixing laughs, “I can’t believe he got you an erotic massage for your birthday.”

“I can’t believe he remembered my birthday. Or that you did, too. I sometimes forget it myself.”

“I only knew because Luhan told me it was your birthday.”

This makes Joonmyun’s insides squeeze pleasantly—the fact that Luhan had gone to such great lengths to figure out Joonmyun’s birthday and to arrange such an elaborate gift. Never mind how unconventional the present was or that he probably had to dig through confidential employee records in order to find Joonmyun’s birthdate. It’s the thought that counts.

“Look down there,” Yixing points out, directing Joonmyun’s attention towards a figure on the riverbank.

“Is that guy...fishing?”

“Yeah, a lot of people fish on the Yangtze, but he’s using a technique that dates back for centuries. You don’t see many people using that kind of net anymore, look.”

Joonmyun follows Yixing as he trots down the path sloping down towards the river. They watch as a tall, bronzed shirtless young man untangles finger-sized fish from his net and tosses it into a plastic bucket. Yixing peers into the bucket, where many small fish and a couple of larger, spotted fish are splashing around in shallow water.

“Impressive,” Yixing says appreciatively.

“About the usual,” the man replies nonchalantly.

“You fish here often?”

“Now and then. Mostly for fun and exercise. I always toss the fish back after I’m done.”

The man positions himself to toss the net back in the water, and Yixing places a hand on Joonmyun’s stomach to keep him from getting too close. The fisherman twists his body as though he’s preparing to throw a discus, and then he unwinds like a coil, releasing the net. It blooms in the air before falling in the river. He keeps a firm grip on a rope attached to the net as it splays out in the water.

Within minutes, tugs from the other end of the rope indicate that fish have been ensnared in his trap. The young man bends over to haul his net back in, and the muscles in his golden-brown back ripple with the effort.

"Are you sure you're not gonna sell those?" Yixing asks. "You could make a lot."

"It's just for fun."

"I want to try!" Joonmyun says eagerly. He turns to address the man. "What's your name?"

"Tao," the fisherman replies, giving Joonmyun a strange look.

"Tao what?"

"Just Tao."

"Can you teach me, Tao?"

"You don't have the equipment for it."

"I can buy it..."

"I'll buy it for you," Yixing interjects. "So I can give you a proper birthday present."

Joonmyun beams at Tao, his eyes shining with excitement. "So you'll teach me, right?"

 

 

 

The next morning, Joonmyun shows up at Tao's fishing spot as promised, carrying a traditional fishing net and wearing rubber boots up to his thighs. Yixing had purchased everything Joonmyun would need for starting his new hobby, down to a bucket hat with ventilation eyelets that Joonmyun takes an immediate liking to.

Even Tao, shirtless once again, cracks a smile at the sight of Joonmyun's enthusiasm.

"So you kind of just..." Tao tells him before flinging his net towards the river, where it lands with minimal splash.

"Like this?"

Down the riverbank, Joonmyun follows suit by copying Tao's movements almost exactly. Joonmyun's net travels in a higher arc, but it, too, lands almost soundlessly.

"Hey, not bad!" Tao praises him, and Joonmyun grins so hard his eyes squint into crescent slivers.

They fish until they fill a bucket and empty it again. By then, the sun is directly above them, so they take a break in the shade of a tree. Joonmyun unpacks a lunch of kimbap for two he made that morning and offers Tao a portion.

Despite his cold appearance, Tao is just shy, rather than aloof—as Joonmyun learns once Tao begins opening up to him. His voice is soft and gentle, but he chatters away endlessly with Joonmyun, who nods and smiles at all the right places and laughs at all his jokes.

By nightfall, Joonmyun realizes that there is little else more beautiful than having a friend to talk to and a broad river to walk along, gazing at city lights reflected from its rippled surface.

“I had a lot of fun today, gege!” Tao says shyly once they’ve reached Joonmyun’s bus stop.

“G-gege?!” Joonmyun startles at the familiar petname.

“Is it okay if I call you that?” Tao asks worriedly.

“No, I mean, yes, it’s fine!”

“Let’s fish together again soon, gege!”

“I’d love to, Tao.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Um, I have work tomorrow unfortunately, but maybe later in the week.”

Tao deflates a little. “Friday then?”

“Friday sounds good!”

Tao bites his lip, glancing furtively at Joonmyun. And then he steps closer, reaching out for him. Oblivious, Joonmyun yelps in surprise when Tao wraps his arms around him in a bear hug.

“I’ll see you on Friday, gege!” he calls to Joonmyun before gathering his fishing supplies and continuing along the foggy pathway along the river.

Joonmyun feels foolish when he meets up with Tao, who is dressed in a crisp white button down, while Joonmyun is wearing dungarees and fishing gear.

“Did I make a mistake?” Joonmyun asks uncertainly.

“No, no, it’s not your fault. My brother wouldn’t let me leave the store early, so I won’t be able to fish with you today, I’m really sorry,” Tao apologizes.

“Oh. Um, that’s okay, then. I can fish by myself tonight.”

“Actually, I had an idea. Why don’t I show you our shop, gege? We sell skin care products, and we even have a small spa. Come on, I can give you one of my special treatments.”

“Spa? Do you give massages?”

“What?” Tao giggles. “No, do I look like a masseuse to you?”

Joonmyun blushes, and Tao continues without noticing, “My family opened one of the first fish spas in this city. There are a lot more now, but ours is the best.”

“Do you catch the fish yourself?” Joonmyun jokes.

“Of course not!” Tao protests, looking appalled. “All of our fish are imported from Turkey.”

Joonmyun lasts less than five seconds in the fish spa. As soon as he lowers his feet into the spa tank, a swarm of tiny fish gather to nibble the dead skin tissue away. Joonmyun shrieks at the sudden, itchy sensation crawling over his sensitive skin and yanks his feet back out, almost toppling over in the process. Tao keeps a firm hold around Joonmyun’s shoulders to keep him from falling over.

“It’s not for everyone,” Tao snickers, and Joonmyun pouts, feeling betrayed.

“Next time, let’s just go fishing,” Joonmyun groans.

 

 

 

Before he knows it, months have passed by living easily with Yixing and whiling away the evenings and weekends with Tao. It’s the longest time he has spent in one place after leaving his childhood home. Even in Korea, Joonmyun’s position as a temporary worker shuttled him from city to city, never settling down in one place for very long. As much as he enjoys living in Wuhan, part of him still thirsts for the excitement of seeing new places.

It’s not long before an opportunity presents itself.

“Joonmyun,” Yixing announces over dinner, this time cooked by Tao, who has gotten into the habit of joining them for meals. “I have a meeting in Beijing next week, so I’ll be gone for the next few days.”

“Can gege stay with me, then?” Tao asks excitedly.

“I was actually thinking that Joonmyun could use some of his vacation days, since he hasn’t touched them yet, and it’s almost the end of the year.”

“To go where?” Joonmyun asks cluelessly. “Beijing?”

“No, unless you want to see Luhan again,” Yixing jokes.

Joonmyun seriously considers it for a moment, though his feelings for Luhan are too complicated to confront on such a short notice. Luhan had been hurtful and cold to Joonmyun, but what Yixing told him about Luhan’s mental health sheds some light on his erratic behavior. Luhan never had the opportunity to explain himself, and everyone deserves a second chance.

“Can I? Come to Beijing with you?”

“But that wouldn’t be much of a vacation, would it? It’ll be cold and gray in Beijing at this time of year, so I was thinking you could visit Guangzhou. It’s summer almost year-round there. And besides, you’ve never experienced southern culture.”

“I’m going to miss you, gege,” Tao pouts, leaning towards Joonmyun to wrap his arms around his neck.

“I’ll just be gone for a few days, Taozi,” Joonmyun promises him.

 

 

 

 **A/N** : don’t drink and drive


	3. Guangzhou

Joonmyun is an expert at this point. He has perfected the art of packing his suitcase down to a science. He briefly considers adding the skill to his resume, alongside booking plane tickets and preparing dinners for one. 

But now he's gotten used to making dinner for two, or even three. It's a change he could get used to. Joonmyun has lived in many places, but it's the people inside that make a house feel like a home. 

Tao insists on making Joonmyun his favorite Hubei style dish before he leaves for Guangzhou. He piles steaming stir fried noodles into a large serving bowl and pours a spicy dark sauce over it before mixing it and trying to feed it to Joonmyun. 

"What are you using that giant bowl for?" Joonmyun giggles, yanking Tao's chopsticks away to feed himself. 

"It's the biggest bowl I could find, gege! Yixing's not home, but I don't think he would mind even if he was."

"These are really delicious, Tao!" Joonmyun praises around a mouthful of noodles. "Even though they're—ah, spicy."

A cool sip of water alleviates the burn in his mouth and throat. Meanwhile, Tao watches him adoringly from across the table. 

"Gege, what time do you leave tomorrow?"

"Eight in the morning I think?"

"We'll have to get up early, then. Before five."

"Um...we?"

"I'm taking tomorrow off to drive you to the airport. It's an hour away, so you might not want to take a taxi."

"Tao, baby, you don't have to do all that for me."

"No, it's okay, I want to. I'll be here to pick you up around five."

"Wait, um, do you want to stay over tonight, then? So we can wake up and leave together," Joonmyun offers. 

"If it's alright with gege," Tao accepts bashfully. "I wouldn't mind spending another night together before you leave."

"I'm not leaving forever, Tao!" Joonmyun grins. "Just five days. Not even enough time for you to miss me."

With all his belongings and travel essentials already packed away, there is little for Joonmyun to do the night before his departure. So he and Tao end up lounging on Yixing's sofa and eating red grapes until Joonmyun dozes off curled up in Tao's lap like a cat. 

Joonmyun stirs when he feels something warm and soft pressing against his forehead—what he suddenly realizes is Tao's lips. 

"Tao?" he mumbles sleepily. 

"Ah, gege!" Tao exclaims in embarrassment, looking away shyly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. You just looked too cute when you were sleeping."

"I love you, Tao. Kiss me again."

His voice is velvet with a rough edge, and he looks up at Tao through his eyelashes with his eyelids at half mast and his small, cherry mouth parted gently. There is a plea pushing through his voice, just beneath the undertones of a command. Tao tilts Joonmyun’s chin up to brush their lips against each other and feels Joonmyun smiling into the kiss. 

“Are you tired, gege? I’ll take you to bed.”

“I’m not tired anymore, Tao, but I wouldn’t mind going to bed," Joonmyun admits. His eyes twinkle playfully with suggestion. 

Tao scoops him up in his arms with a grunt, and Joonmyun clings onto him by the shoulders, locking his ankles around Tao's back. He feels Tao's muscles, taut and defined beneath his palms, hears every noise of exertion. And then Joonmyun is being lowered slowly onto his mattress, but he reaches out to pull Tao down with him. 

Unexpectedly, Joonmyun ends up on top of Tao, hips pinned against hips. 

"Y-yixing isn't home today," Tao stammers suddenly. 

Joonmyun's grin grows wider. "I know."

"So is it okay if we...?"

"We can do whatever you want, Tao, baby," Joonmyun purrs. "Whatever you're okay with is okay with me."

It suddenly strikes Tao that despite being the smaller and cuter of the two, Joonmyun is quite possibly a sexual fiend. Tao is helplessly aroused by the heavy-lidded look in Joonmyun's eyes, the weight of Joonmyun on his chest, the feeling of their hips grinding against each other. 

Joonmyun rolls his hips, and it's an unambiguous invitation for Tao to wriggle his fingers beneath the waistband of Joonmyun's pajama pants and boxers to pull them all the way down. Joonmyun kicks them off and makes quick work of Tao's jeans, tugging them off to admire Tao's golden, muscular thighs. Tao's cock strains against the cotton of his snug briefs, and soon that article of clothing is gone as well. 

"Open up, Tao," Joonmyun murmurs tenderly. He pushes his fingers past Tao's lips and into his mouth, instructing him to, "Suck."

Tao obeys, and Joonmyun's whole body clenches at the sensation, warm wet licks against his sensitive fingertips. He pulls his fingers away to loosen himself using Tao's saliva as lubricant, holding onto Tao's shoulder with his other hand for support. 

His fingernails bite into Tao's flesh as he reams himself on his own fingers and then lowers onto Tao's lap, guiding Tao's cock onto his contracting hole. And then he's bouncing on Tao's lap, punctuating the quiet night with lazy slaps of skin against skin. 

Tao's frowning and gritting his teeth in concentration, trying not to unravel too quickly, and Joonmyun leans in to bump their noses. "Doing okay?" he asks. 

"Y-yeah."

"I'm glad." Joonmyun laughs, because it just feels so good to do this with someone he loves. "I love you Tao, baby," he whispers roughly. 

But no matter how much he and Tao love each other, Joonmyun doesn't think he will ever be in love with Tao, not in the way he has felt himself falling in love with a certain someone from another city. 

Joonmyun kisses Tao sloppily, licking his chin by accident, and they giggle with their foreheads pressed together. And then Joonmyun's breaths turn sharp and urgent as an aching throb pounds through his body, and he spills onto his clenched fist. 

Tao is pushed over the edge by the sound of Joonmyun whimpering his name alone. They curl up together and hold onto each other during the aftermath, too sticky to be comfortable, but too exhausted to care. 

 

Even when the autumn chill has diffused to almost everywhere else in the country, Guangzhou is still pleasantly balmy. A warm breeze wafts through the streets, heavy with the sweet fragrance of summer fruits: pineapples, strawberries, and watermelon sold in carts by the side of the road. 

Yifan passes by street vendors weaving blades of grass into elaborate sculptures of snakes and grasshoppers. A blind old lady squatting on a straw mat at the end of the bridge smiles toothlessly at him, asking if he wants his fortune read, but Yifan shakes his head. There’s no time. He stops to dig in his pockets to give her a ¥20 bill, hoping it will pay for at least a couple of meals. 

He holds his knapsack close as he skips down the steps leading to the banks of the Yangtze River. There are already other artists sketching portraits by the riverside and selling them to tourists. Yifan lays out examples of his own work in the hopes of catching an interested eye. 

After setting up his easel, Yifan begins a portrait by imagination just to see where his pencil and charcoal strokes will take him. With flicks and twitches of his wrist, a face comes into focus on the blank white paper. Soft bangs brushing over dark doe eyes, a straight nose, sweetly indented philtrum and shapely mouth. This arbitrary composition of facial features is arranged in a way so vivid, unfamiliar but familiar at the same time, that Yifan wonders if he has seen this face before. 

But he couldn't have. There is no way Yifan could forget meeting someone with such demurely elegant features. 

He unfastens the drawing from his easel to take a closer look, but before he can further scrutinize his portrait, a gust of wind snatches the paper from his hands. It's a split-second choice he has to make: he can either chase after the drawing or stay in his place to guard the rest of his belongings from the wind. 

He decides to stay. It's not like anybody would have bought the drawing anyways. Tourists, his usual patrons, prefer to buy portraits of people who matter—historical figures, celebrities, themselves. Not whoever it was that Yifan drew. Probably a half-remembered face from a dream. 

"Hey! Is this yours?" a stranger pants, kneeling in front of Yifan. He hands Yifan a slightly crumpled sheet of paper, which Yifan accepts in surprise. 

"Yes it is. Thank you so much."

"No problem!" the man beams. "Who's the guy in the drawing?

"Uh. I'm not sure?"

Yifan glances up from the drawing to look closely at the man for the first time. He almost falls over when he realizes that the man crouching before him is a living, breathing image of the face on the paper. He reaches out unconsciously to touch the stranger's face, but the man frowns and leans away. 

"Is there something on my face?" he frowns, pulling at his own cheeks. 

"N-no, it's just, um. Who are you?"

"My name is Kim Joonmyun!" he answers brightly. "Are you selling that drawing, by the way? I kind of like it."

"Here, take it." Yifan presses the portrait into Joonmyun's hands without taking his eyes away from Joonmyun's face, which is infinitely more radiant in person than on paper. "It's yours."

"No, I couldn't," Joonmyun refuses. 

"Please. It's my gift to you."

"How are you ever going to make a living if you're so charitable?" Joonmyun teases. He finally accepts the drawing and murmurs, "Thank you."

He's about to leave when Yifan summons the courage to ask, "Are you from around here?"

"No, I'm just a tourist."

"Where are you visiting from?"

"I'm from a lot of places," Joonmyun answers coyly. 

"Oh. Um, how long are you staying in Guangzhou?"

Joonmyun frowns cutely as he tries to recall. "I spent one day visiting temples, another day in a botanical garden, and now I'm on my second day exploring the city before I leave tomorrow."

Yifan's heart sinks when he realizes what fleeting time he has left with the man from his half-remembered dream. 

"Would you...like someone to show you around?" Yifan asks hesitantly. 

"I've actually got a group tour booked for the afternoon...but I'm free this evening..."

"Dinner then?" Yifan suggests a little too quickly, a little too hopefully. 

"Where can I find you?" 

"I'll probably be here still. The river is beautiful in the evening."

"Yeah," Joonmyun agrees. "I always took walks along the Yangtze in Wuhan."

"So that's where you're from?"

"Smart, aren't you?"

Yifan's forehead creases as he figures out whether or not he's being teased. 

"It's strange though," Joonmyun reflects, looking out at the glassy surface of the Yangtze River. "It's the same river here and there, but it feels completely different. It's hard to believe that this body of water stretches so long, connecting two places so far away from each other."

"The river had to stretch out for so long so it could bring you to me," Yifan says without thinking. 

Joonmyun bursts into surprised laughter. "Well, aren't you romantic?"

"I am an artist, after all."

"I can see that," Joonmyun grins, glancing down at the drawing Yifan had given him. "Thank you again for this. I'll try to find you tonight."

"If you can't find me, just ask for Yifan. Everyone knows who I am around here."

"Is that so? I guess I'll see if you live up to your name tonight."

Joonmyun waves at him as he resumes his search for his tour bus. The image of his smile clings to Yifan's mind, simple but radiant in beauty, like a full moon. 

 

By the time the sky is veiled in velvety dusk, Yifan has several sheets of drawing paper scattered by his feet. No matter who or what he tries to draw, his hand moves almost of its own accord, tracing out that sloping jaw, those dark almond eyes. The other street artists, the real ones, look at the portraits with surprise when they chat with Yifan during the slowest business hours. 

"So you finally learned how to draw?" one of them chuckles, picking up a portrait of Joonmyun. 

"He's my greatest masterpiece," Yifan tells him, and he's only half joking. 

Tourists pause by his easel, asking if the man is a famous actor and how many yuan Yifan would take for his drawings. Yifan tells them that the portraits of Joonmyun are priceless and refuses to sell any of them. 

"Oh? You're still here?" Joonmyun asks when he finds Yifan in the evening. "That was easy."

"Yeah. How was your city tour?"

Yifan tries to surreptitiously hide the portraits of Joonmyun, but Joonmyun catches the subtle movements from the corner of his eye. 

"It was a lot of fun. Can I see what you drew?"

"Well, actually...I should explain–"

But Joonmyun is already crouching on the concrete, leafing through the papers. He frowns as he looks from one drawing to the next. 

"Yifan," he begins, "are these all drawings of...me?"

"Yeah," Yifan admits helplessly. "I like drawing you."

"Well you could have told me so! I wouldn't have minded modeling for you if you wanted me to!"

By some miracle, the grin Joonmyun flashes him is easy, relaxed. Not panicked like Yifan had feared he would be. Admittedly, Yifan is being more creepy than he would like, but Joonmyun seems to enjoy the attention. 

"Is it okay if I draw you then?" Yifan asks hesitantly. 

"Sure, as long as you still take me out for dinner afterwards. I'm starting to get hungry."

"Of course."

"How should I pose?"

"However you like."

Joonmyun turns his back on Yifan as he considers his options. When he faces him once more, Joonmyun's teeth are bared in an enormous grin, and his eyes are wide open. It would be a scary look on anyone less adorable than Joonmyun. In fact, it's a little scary even on Joonmyun. 

"Are you sure?" Yifan laughs. "Your face might get tired."

"My cheeks are already getting tired," Joonmyun grits out through his teeth. "Just do it quickly."

Yifan shakes his head in disbelief as he traces the outline of Joonmyun's face, erasing here, adding details there. By and by, a face is etched onto the paper, though the drawing isn't a shade of the real thing. The important thing is, Yifan can make his memory of Joonmyun last just a little bit longer now. 

"Can I see it?" Joonmyun asks eagerly when Yifan slips his pencils back into his case. 

The drawing downplays the maniacal edge to Joonmyun's grin, but he is still beaming hugely, all square teeth and dimpled cheeks. The eyes are windows to the soul, and that's what Yifan really captures in his drawing: that infinitely gentle, ever radiant light in Joonmyun's eyes. 

"Well, that was worth holding a smile twenty minutes for," Joonmyun comments when Yifan shows it to him. "It's beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you are."

There's not much time for Yifan to congratulate himself on finally voicing his thoughts, because Joonmyun shoves him by the shoulder in embarrassment. 

"Getting handsy, are we now?" Yifan teases. 

"Shut up!" Joonmyun giggles, feeling as though he's a teenager again. Like he's flirting with a boy he met over summer vacation, and they're just looking for an excuse to touch and tease each other. 

The saccharine colors bleeding through the sky remind Joonmyun that there are only a few hours left before his tour bus returns to the villas. Yifan leads him with a hand against Joonmyun's elbow to an upscale restaurant near the river with brushed metal accents and tall windows. 

Joonmyun hadn't expected to be taken to a place like this. Young, attractive waiters lined up by the entrance bow at them in greeting, and a small fortune's worth of sculptures and paintings decorate the lobby. He's peripherally aware of how out of place he and Yifan are, with their dusty sandals leaving a trail of footprints in this black tie venue. 

"I thought we were going to get street food or something," Joonmyun whispers warily when the waiter leaves them with a menu as thick as his arm. "This place looks...expensive."

"It is," Yifan confirms nonchalantly, flipping through the menu without even the barest glance at the full color photographs of the entrees. 

"Um, it's okay if we just have street food then. It's fine with me. I love street food!"

"Don't worry about it. Anything you'd like to try?"

"No, really, you don't have to do this, we can just–"

"Joonmyun, it's really okay," Yifan laughs. "I own the place."

"Oh." Joonmyun flushes in embarrassment. "So you're not actually an artist?"

Yifan looks down at his clumsily large, yet aristocratic looking hands—not quite suited for either manual labor or fine arts. "Usually I'm not. I take off a day now and then to practice drawing. But when I draw people, it never comes out right."

"Really? But your drawing of me looked great!"

"You see, I've always struggled with drawing eyes. No matter what face I draw, the eyes always come out looking the same. They never fit the rest of the face. So for a period of time I just drew eyeless portraits of people. The other street artists teased me about scaring the tourists away with my drawings. But today, I tried drawing a complete face again. And I finally figured out who the eyes belonged to."

"Who?"

"They were your eyes all along."

He says this so seriously, that Joonmyun can no longer hold his gaze, and so he looks away, feeling heat crawl up his neck. 

A party of elegantly dressed men and women in tuxedos and ball gowns pass their table, and Joonmyun is once again self-conscious about how much he doesn't belong here. It's not just the clothes, it's like everyone around him can tell that Joonmyun would never be able to afford a meal here on his own. He hears whispers and snickers from other diners, and Joonmyun can just feel himself becoming a string of adjectives in their eyes: unseemly, improper, scruffy. _Look at what the cat dragged in._

As though he can tell that Joonmyun is visibly insecure, Yifan asks quietly, "Would you be more comfortable eating with me in a private room? I'm sure we have at least one available upstairs."

Joonmyun nods gratefully and follows Yifan up to the VIP wing of the restaurant. Yifan finds a waiter in the hallway and discovers that all the VIP rooms are filled. There is, however, one room that has just been seated. They peek in for a look, and it's the same people that had passed their table just a few minutes earlier and reduced Joonmyun to a party joke. 

"Wait here," Yifan mutters, leaving Joonmyun in the hallway as he ducks into the employee changing room. 

Yifan re-emerges wearing the slim-fitting, white tie tuxedo he dons during his working hours managing the restaurant. He knocks sharply on the door to the VIP room and enters with a waiter following behind him. Joonmyun can’t hear what he’s saying, but less than a minute later, the disgruntled group is led back out by the waiter, who asks them to follow him back downstairs to the main dining area. Joonmyun steps inside the VIP room and finds Yifan smirking, suddenly appearing to him so strong and commanding and invulnerable.

“Thanks,” Joonmyun murmurs shyly.

“It’s no problem. You looked uncomfortable, so I thought sitting here would be better. We have a better view from this room anyways.”

Joonmyun follows his gaze and sees the beautiful, dusky cityscape through the window. The softest shafts of fading sunlight are falling through the clouds, but by the time their meal is finished, the sky is completely dark. It starts raining, too, when they step outside.

Yifan holds his tuxedo jacket over Joonmyun to shield him from the rain and shouts, “My car’s in the back parking lot, I’ll drive you to your hotel!”

They dash through an alleyway, splashing in puddles that soak their shoes. Luckily, Joonmyun is wearing waterproof sandals, but Yifan’s patent black leather oxfords are ruined. 

“Where are you staying?” Yifan asks, peeling his shoes and socks off to toss them in the backseat. 

“It’s actually kind of in the countryside, in a village just east of the city.”

“Oh, I know where you’re talking about. I have a summer home there. But put the address in my GPS just to be safe.”

The rain continues to fall in torrents during their drive, and when Yifan parks in front of the villa, Joonmyun comes to a sudden realization.

“Shit! I forgot to close my windows!”

Yifan follows behind as Joonmyun races into the house and up the stairs to his rented bedroom. The rain had blown relentlessly through the open windows all night, soaking every inch of fabric in his room, from the carpet to the sheets.

“Oh no,” Joonmyun moans. “It was so beautiful all day today, I didn’t even think it would rain. I’m going to have to pay for carpet damage.”

“More importantly, where are you going to sleep?” Yifan lifts the sheets and duvet to inspect the mattress underneath. “Even the mattress is wet, there’s no way you can sleep here.”

“I probably deserve it for being so dumb.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Pack up all your stuff, let’s check you out of here. I’ll take care of the carpet bill, too. My summer house is just a few minutes away.”

“But...is that okay? It’s not summer…”

“Of course it’s okay,” Yifan laughs. “I own the house, it’s mine year-round. I only stay in it during the summer.”

“Oh,” Joonmyun says, suddenly feeling foolish. 

If the countryside villa Joonmyun had stayed briefly in was the most beautiful house he had ever seen, then Yifan’s summer home is even more gorgeous. Joonmyun is accustomed to the crampedness intrinsic to city living, but here in the countryside, there is room to breathe, to dance. Which they do, in their sopping wet clothing. When Joonmyun finds a vintage turntable in Yifan’s living room, he starts playing an old jazz vinyl and grabs Yifan by the hand to dance. 

Neither of them know how to dance, but they continue to spin and twirl, shaking their legs and hands like they’ve seen in old black and white movies imported from the West. Until Yifan notices that Joonmyun is shivering in his damp clothing, and then he drags Joonmyun to the bathroom for a warm shower, handing him a towel and a set of pajamas.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa!” Joonmyun announces, when he returns to Yifan with his skin scrubbed pink and his hair still dripping from the shower. 

“You’re a guest, of course you’ll sleep in the bed.”

“But it’s your house! You should sleep in the bed! Your sofa is probably more comfortable than my own bed, anyways.”

“It’s a big bed, we can share it,” Yifan suggests. “If you don’t mind.”

“I...um, okay,” Joonmyun agrees hesitantly. “Are you sure it’s alright? I really wouldn’t mind the sofa.”

“I promise I won’t try anything.”

“No, that’s not what I was talking about!” Joonmyun objects. “I trust you, it’s just that...you’re very tall. Are you sure you’ll be comfortable sharing?”

“Well you’re pretty short,” Yifan teases. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, that was just unnecessary.”

“Sorry,” Yifan grins.

Joonmyun is already asleep, curled up in a ball in a corner of the bed by the time Yifan returns from his shower. Yifan tosses a blanket over Joonmyun, folding the hem back to make sure that Joonmyun has fresh air to breathe and then sets his alarm for early tomorrow morning so that he can wake up in time to send Joonmyun to the airport. He crawls into the far end of his bed to keep a proper distance between them, and falls asleep dreaming of the stars in Joonmyun’s eyes.

But when morning comes, Joonmyun is gone, leaving behind a note of thanks as the only evidence that he wasn’t just a face from a half-remembered dream.


	4. Beijing Again

“So how was your trip?”

Joonmyun has been here before, in the shotgun seat of Yixing’s car as he is driven back to Yixing’s apartment. 

“It was great! Guangzhou is beautiful, it felt like it was still summer there.”

“Good, since it won’t feel like that again for a few months in Wuhan. What did you do?”

“The usual tourist stuff. I met an interesting guy on my last day.”

“Oh?”

"Yeah, we had a nice meal together."

"That reminds me actually, have you had lunch yet?"

"No, I'm starving."

"Perfect, because lunch should be ready by the time we get back to my apartment."

"You didn't leave the stove on to cook for me, did you?" Joonmyun asks in alarm. 

"No, of course not. Someone else is doing the cooking."

"Tao?"

"No, not quite. You'll see when you get home."

The last person Joonmyun expects to see in Yixing's kitchen is Luhan. 

"We're home!" Yixing announces, wheeling Joonmyun's suitcase into the apartment. "That smells delicious."

Lined up on the kitchen table are platters piled with stir-fried eggplant, steamed pork, fish, deep fried lotus root, and rice balls. 

"I didn't know you knew how to make _tanzi_ ," Yixing comments, picking up a rice ball. "Hm, not bad. Very authentic."

"My mother's from Chenchang," Luhan reminds him, stirring the beef and turnip stew on the stove. 

"Oh, that's right. I always forget that you're a village boy at heart despite your cold, city boy exterior."

Luhan frowns and looks up from the stew, finally seeing Joonmyun. Their eyes meet, but neither of them are sure of what to do with their faces. Joonmyun tries on a smile, but Luhan's face is still frozen in shock. 

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Luhan," Yixing teases. 

"I have."

Over the past several months, Luhan's love for Joonmyun had blossomed, unasked and untended, growing wild in their time apart. Joonmyun had disappeared without a trace—Luhan had _made_ him go away—but the distance only made Luhan pine for him even more. 

His expectations for seeing Joonmyun again were low. He cautioned himself against idealizing Joonmyun too much, or else he would just be disappointed. It wouldn't be unreasonable for Joonmyun to hate him at this point, because of everything Luhan had done to him—but Joonmyun is smiling like he's genuinely glad to see Luhan again. 

"Hi," Joonmyun exhales. "What are you doing here, Luhan?"

"I bumped into him at my conference in Beijing," Yixing explains. "He followed me all the way back–"

"What are _you_ doing here, Joonmyun?" Luhan interrupts, acting like Yixing isn’t even there. 

"I kind of live here," Joonmyun giggles. 

"Is that right?"

"Shut up, you knew that already," Yixing mutters, unappreciative of being ignored by Luhan. "I'm going out for lunch with Tao and Jongdae so you two can have a nice long talk."

"It's not like you're gonna be any less of a third wheel if you're with those two," Luhan points out. 

"Jongdae's here, too?" Joonmyun asks, his eyes lighting up in interest. 

"Yeah," Luhan replies glumly. "He's looking for a new job. Apparently I'm stressing him out too much."

"We can talk more about _that_ some other time," Yixing tells him. "See you guys later. Try not to burn the apartment down."

Yixing locks the door behind him, and Joonmyun turns to Luhan to ask, "Wait, does that mean that Jongdae and Tao are a thing now?"

"We haven't seen each other in months, and that's the first thing you ask me?" Luhan scoffs in disbelief. 

"This is all so surreal. I can't even believe I'm seeing _you_ right now."

“Yeah, me neither.”

Luhan’s gaze darts between Joonmyun’s eyes, down to his lips, then back up to his eyes again. He wishes he could close the distance between them just to confirm that this moment together is really happening.

“Does that mean you missed me?” Joonmyun asks softly. 

It’s a simple yes-or-no question, but Luhan’s tongue is tied. He casts around in his mind for words to say, but comes up empty.

“Well, I missed you,” Joonmyun whispers, almost as if his words aren’t meant for Luhan to hear. He steps closer to Luhan, so close that Luhan can count the transparent shadows cast by Joonmyun’s eyelashes fanning across his cheeks.

For a moment, Joonmyun’s eyes search his, but then he wraps his arms around Luhan’s shoulders in a fleeting embrace that is over before Luhan realizes what’s happening. Joonmyun steps away just as quickly, like he was caught doing something wrong.

It’s the first time a hug has ever sent Luhan’s heart racing.

“Um...Luhan?”

“Y-yeah?”

“The pot on the stove is almost about to overflow.”

“Shit!”

Luhan manages to rescue the stew and Yixing’s kitchen just in time, and he threatens to fire Joonmyun if he tattles to Yixing about the mishap.

“You’re not the boss of me!” Joonmyun whines.

“Well, that’s actually something else I was hoping to talk to you about. Since Jongdae is trying to transfer into Yixing’s division, that means I won’t have a personal assistant anymore.”

“Oh. Is that why you came all the way down to Wuhan? To look for a new employee in exchange for Jongdae?”

Luhan catches the tone of hurt in Joonmyun’s voice and quickly clarifies, “No, not just that. I came down here for...personal reasons, too.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I have family nearby that I have to visit.”

“Oh.”

He’s skirted around the issue for too long already, so Luhan finally gathers the courage to be upfront about how he feels. “And also because I wanted to see you, Joonmyun. Not just as an employee, but as a...friend? No, that doesn’t seem like it’s the right word for it. But I just really missed...you.”

The words come out halting, fumbling, while Joonmyun stares at him with his soup spoon hovering by his lips. Luhan is suddenly aware of the way Joonmyun is holding his spoon between his middle and ring fingers and just how stupidly adorable it looks. 

Joonmyun breaks into a grin, and it’s like a heavy burden has been lifted from Luhan’s chest—most likely the stress of living on his nerves for too long, carrying the immense weight of his struggles on his own. There’s a promise somewhere, in that smile of Joonmyun’s. 

“You know, that’s all I really wanted to hear,” Joonmyun tells him. By now, he understands that coming from Luhan, a confession as simple as that means so much. Luhan isn’t good with feelings in general, let alone with expressing them out loud. Joonmyun recognizes the courage it had taken Luhan to be so honest. “By the way, thanks for the birthday gift.”

“What? Oh, you mean the masseuses?”

“Yeah, they were really great!”

“So you enjoyed it?”

“Definitely!”

“I had a feeling you might be into some kinky shit,” Luhan chortles fondly, and Joonmyun almost chokes on his soup.

“This beef has a really interesting flavor,” he says, trying to change the subject.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. What kind of seasoning did you use?”

“I rubbed some cinnamon into it. I know it’s kind of weird, but my mother always used cinnamon in everything. It reminds me of her.”

“No, it’s actually not bad! It works, somehow. It’s just...different.”

“Different, but not bad,” Luhan murmurs. “I’ll take it. Sounds like something my mother would say.”

“Are you two close?”

“We’ve always had a complicated relationship. It’s not easy to raise someone like me, for a lot of reasons. She was always there for me growing up, though. But when I turned twenty, she moved back to Chenchang when she realized that I would never give her grandchildren to take care of. It was always more comfortable for her there.”

“But you still visit, right?”

“Now and then. Whenever I have time, and only when there’s somebody to come with me. Even after all this time, it’s still so hard to face her on my own.”

“That’s understandable,” Joonmyun says gently. He is fascinated by, but also grateful for the intimate glimpses that Luhan is exposing him to. It’s like Joonmyun is finally learning who Luhan really is. “Things like that take time.”

“Yeah,” Luhan agrees absentmindedly. “I’m going to stop by my mother’s village for a day or so on my way back to Beijing. It’s been over a year since the last time I was in Chenchang, so I’m about due for a visit.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow. I think Jongdae has made up his mind about whether or not he wants to stay in Beijing or relocate here. He met this guy at a fish spa, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“Tao?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Tao’s a really great guy,” Joonmyun gushes. “So is Jongdae, they’ll be so good together!”

“Is that so? I’m glad,” Luhan says in a rare moment of sincerity. “I’m happy for them. But Jongdae was supposed to accompany me on my visit to my mother. He’s always been there for me as moral support.”

“But what if I came instead?” Joonmyun volunteers. “I wouldn’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“It’ll be like you’re introducing me to your parents! Or at least, one of them.”

“Something like that.”

“Are you going to introduce me as your boyfriend?” 

“What?”

“Oh!” Joonmyun gasps, suddenly realizing what he had asked. “Sorry, oh my god, I don’t know why I said that, it shouldn’t have come out–”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Luhan says carefully. “But before this turns into another giant clusterfuck...is that how you think of me? Or how you want to think of me?”

“If that’s okay with you,” Joonmyun admits shyly. 

The apartment door suddenly swings open, and they both turn their heads at the sound of a shriek. A blur of black hair and bronze skin streaks across the living room and into the kitchen, hurtling towards Joonmyun.

“Gege!” Tao squeals, pulling Joonmyun to his chest in a bear hug. “I missed you so much!”

“Tao, it’s only been a few days!” Joonmyun wheezes.

“I need to introduce you to my boyfriend, gege!”

“Boyfriend?” Jongdae asks incredulously, barking out a laugh of disbelief. “I never agreed to anything.”

Tao whirls around to flash Jongdae a knowing grin, and Joonmyun tries to wave feebly at Jongdae in greeting, though his arms are still pinned to his sides by Tao’s embrace.

 

“Is it really okay for me to stay here?” Joonmyun asks as he rolls his suitcase into Luhan’s hotel room. “You and Jongdae were sharing a room, right?”

“Please,” Luhan scoffs, “Jongdae hasn’t stayed in this hotel room since he met Tao for the first time. It’s been just me. And I’m sure Yixing would like some alone time after having all of us over the entire evening.”

“That’s true, I thought it was time for me to stop being a bother to him.”

“Joonmyun, you’re not a bother. There’s no reason for you to think you are. Besides, it’s those two fucking lovey-dovey assholes who are the bothers.”

For a moment, Joonmyun just watches Luhan, studying the gentle curves and contours of his face. He looks the same, but in some ways, the man sitting on the bed opposite to him is a completely different person from the man with whom Joonmyun had such turbulent encounters in Beijing.

“What?” Luhan asks, noticing Joonmyun’s quiet contemplation. “What are you looking at?”

“You seem...different,” Joonmyun confesses. “You’re a lot calmer than I remember. Like you’ve mellowed out.”

“Well, I’ve had some time to think about myself and what I want.”

“And what is that?”

“I want…” Luhan closes his fists tightly around his bedsheets, which absorb the nervous moisture pricking his palms. “I just want to love you as much as I can.”

He’s completely vulnerable now, laying his feelings out in the open like he’s never done before. It’s terrifying, but thrilling at the same time, and for some reason, Luhan trusts Joonmyun enough to expose himself like this.

“You really want me to be your new personal assistant, don’t you?” Joonmyun jokes faintly.

“And/or boyfriend. But boyfriend would be preferable.”

“I accept your offer,” Joonmyun grins. 

"Which one?"

“Both. Let’s seal the deal.”

“How?”

Joonmyun pretends to think about it. “A kiss should suffice,” he decides. He kicks his shoes off and swings his legs onto his bed, reclining onto his cushiony pillows. The clear message is for Luhan to join him, a wish that Luhan is happy to oblige.

Expecting to be ravished, Joonmyun closes his eyes and parts his lips softly, his back already arching in anticipation. But Luhan is overcome with the urge to be gentle with Joonmyun, despite how roughly he has treated each one of his previous lovers. Something about Joonmyun just tugs at Luhan’s chest cavity, compelling him to handle Joonmyun like a precious treasure. 

For a few moments, Luhan just holds Joonmyun’s face in his hands, in awe of how perfectly Joonmyun's face fits within the space between Luhan’s fingertips. Joonmyun’s eyelids flutter open in surprise, and what he sees isn’t lust in Luhan’s eyes, but something so much more tender. And then Luhan’s lips are on top of his, slightly chapped but Joonmyun doesn’t mind. It’s Joonmyun who deepens the kiss, grazing with his teeth the swell of Luhan’s lower lip and probing with his tongue the warm, wet space behind Luhan’s lips. 

Joonmyun’s whole body is tingling with pleasure just from the kiss, and he holds onto Luhan tighter, wrapping his knees around Luhan’s body and locking his ankles behind his back. Luhan wishes he could kiss Joonmyun endlessly if only it were possible. 

Alone in the hotel room together, they could try anything they wanted to. And Luhan could take him, right now, but somehow it wouldn't feel right. 

"I'm not sure what your thoughts are on premarital sex," Luhan mutters hoarsely, "but I think we should have at least one date before we do anything."

"Oh. Yeah," Joonmyun agrees a little reluctantly. "That's the right thing to do, isn't it?"

"I guess so. I'm not exactly sure though, since I haven't had many normal, healthy relationships for a frame of reference."

He says it so nonchalantly that Joonmyun bursts into surprised laughter. 

"I'm really fucked up, aren't I?" Luhan asks wryly. "I know that Yixing told you about my BD, but that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"He did tell me," Joonmyun says seriously. "But you're still Luhan to me, and I love you because you're Luhan. That kind of thing isn't what makes you who you are."

"Joonmyun..." Luhan begins in a low, brittle voice. He rubs his eyes with his knuckles, and they come away wet with moisture. Strange. "Joonmyun, if I ever hurt you, please leave me. I don't deserve you."

"You're going to hurt my feelings if you keep talking about that kind of thing. Let's talk about something else instead."

"Like what? I'm no good at small talk."

"If you were a balloon, what color would you be?"

"What kind of fucking question is that?"

"I would be yellow," Joonmyun says, ignoring Luhan. "Because I'm happy most of the time, and I've got an optimistic outlook on life."

Luhan chuckles softly in disbelief. He wasn't invited to many sleepover parties as a kid, but he imagines that this is what it would feel like. He chatters to Joonmyun about the profound, the inane, and everything in between until they fall asleep in each other's arms. 

 

The only way to reach Chenchang from Wuhan is by winding dirt roads through the countryside, navigable only by locals. The village itself is a single paved street with clusters of tiny, tin-roofed houses scattered around the agrarian lands surrounding it. It's not even a dot on most maps, the kind of place that nobody has ever heard of unless they're from there. 

They check into a modest business hotel with cement flooring and broken heating. Joonmyun feels like he is in a completely different world from the sophisticated cities he has been exposed to so far, though most of China resembles Chenchang much more than Beijing or even Wuhan. 

"Not bad," Luhan says, surveying their single-bed hotel room. There isn't even a television in the sparsely furnished space, but Luhan seems impressed. "This is considered five stars around here. Chenchang has come a long way since I was a kid."

"Did you live here, in Chenchang?"

"Briefly. I don't remember much, just stuff my mother told me. I was born in a hospital not far from this hotel, I'll point it out to you on our way to visit my mother."

The ground is still soft and damp from last night's rain, so Luhan covers his shoes with plastic bags to protect them from the mud, fastening them around his ankles. He does the same for Joonmyun, who feels foolish with plastic bags on his feet until he realizes how many people outside are doing the same. 

Luhan is solicitous of Joonmyun, paying him small, cherishing attentions and keeping a hand always on him, lightly, somewhere. When he realizes that Joonmyun's teeth are chattering in the damp chill, Luhan takes off his own scarf and drapes it around Joonmyun's neck. It's not like Luhan to be so gentle, so considerate towards another person, but he wants so desperately to be the man he thinks Joonmyun deserves. 

They stop by a vendor kiosk by the side of the road, where an old man is selling brightly colored goods. Everywhere else in town is bleak and dull on this cold, overcast day, making his kiosk even more vibrant in contrast. 

"Let's stop here for a few minutes so I can buy some gifts for my mother," Luhan says and hands Joonmyun a plastic bag to hold the gifts. 

He picks out from among the colorful assortment of trinkets: a set of paper dresses that would fit a doll, a miniature plastic mahjong set, a few stacks of fake ¥100 bills, a brightly colored bouquet of long-stemmed plastic flowers, and red firecrackers. 

Joonmyun carries the plastic flowers, while Luhan takes the bag containing everything else. 

"Is plastic okay?" Joonmyun asks. "Don't women prefer real flowers?"

"My mother isn't picky about that kind of thing," Luhan assures him. "And plastic lasts longer."

“Wait, should I have brought a present, too? We still have time to stop somewhere so I can buy something for her, right? And is it okay for me to visit her dressed like this? Maybe I shouldn’t be wearing jeans, I have a suit back at the hotel–”

“Relax. She won’t mind at all. You look perfect just the way you are.”

Luhan wraps an arm around Joonmyun’s shoulders and pulls him closer. He mouths a soft kiss against Joonmyun’s cheek, silent beneath the crinkling of their plastic bagged shoes. 

“I’m glad we put these on,” Joonmyun says, pointing to the plastic bags on their feet. “It’s a lot muddier outside than I thought.”

They’ve strayed away from the village’s main road, and now there is only damp grass and dirt and mud beneath their feet. Joonmyun expects Luhan to lead him towards one of the clusters of abodes on the outskirts of the village, but they walk past the tiny concrete homes, and they keep walking until there are no more buildings in sight. 

When they reach a slippery, grassy hill, Luhan holds firmly onto Joonmyun’s hand to keep him from slipping as they climb over it. On the other side of the hill a field of grass emerges, dotted with slabs of stone sprouting out from between tufts of green. Luhan tightens his grip around Joonmyun’s fingers until he stops in front of a gravestone on the eastern edge of the cemetery.

“Hi mom, it’s been so long,” Luhan says softly, plucking the bouquet of flowers from Joonmyun’s hands and inserting it into a mound of soft earth behind the gravestone. The long-stemmed flowers stand tall and proud, like they’re blossoming from the earth where Luhan’s mother is at rest. 

Joonmyun doesn’t know what to say as Luhan crouches in front of the gravestone, shredding bits of newspaper into a small pile of tinder and setting them aflame with a lighter. 

“I brought you a mahjong set so you won’t get bored,” Luhan says, dropping the plastic mahjong table into the fire. “Clothes, too, and some spending money.” The paper doll dresses are added to the flames, followed by the fake bills. 

Luhan’s voice is lighthearted as he gives his offerings to the flames. There is a smile in his tone, but when Joonmyun glances over at him, Luhan’s face is full of tears. Neither of them say anything as the fire continues to burn, and for a few minutes the only sounds to be heard are the rustle and crackle of ghost money and paper offerings. All of the gifts are eventually consumed by the fire, and they drift up to the sky in smoke.

“Mom, please protect me,” Luhan says in a ragged voice barely under control. He bows towards the gravestone three times and steps away. He leans towards Joonmyun and whispers into his ear, “You can also ask her for protection, if you want. You can call her ‘mom’, too. She would have liked that.”

Joonmyun follows Luhan’s actions, murmuring reverently, “Mom, please protect me,” and bowing in her honor. 

When the flames turn to ashes, Luhan positions the firecrackers at the foot of her gravestone. He lays a hand on Joonmyun’s stomach in warning for him to keep at a safe distance, and then he leans down to set off the firecrackers before quickly stepping away. Loud snaps, more smoke, and then silence. 

“Thanks for coming here with me today,” Luhan whispers, slipping his fingers into Joonmyun’s palm. 

He turns his head to bury his face into Joonmyun's shoulder, letting sobs shake his body. Joonmyun doesn't know what else to do besides gently patting Luhan's back and kissing his hair. In reality, all Luhan really needs is just for Joonmyun to be there for him. 

"I hate coming back here," Luhan mumbles as they walk back to the hotel. "It always reminds me of how much I miss her."

"I-it's okay to miss people," Joonmyun sniffles. He's trying so hard to comfort Luhan, but his own voice is thick with emotion, and Joonmyun suddenly notices that there are tears falling down his own face, too. 

"I just...miss her so fucking much sometimes."

"Y-yeah."

Joonmyun doesn't even know what Luhan's mother looks like, but it's like Luhan's pain is Joonmyun's pain. He would do anything to make Luhan not hurt anymore. 

 

The overnight train back to Beijing is entirely booked, but Luhan and Joonmyun manage to snag last minute tickets for the same cabin, though just barely. Each cabin fits four people and is about the size of the walk-in closet Luhan has in his new apartment in Beijing. There are two sets of bunk beds squeezed into the cabin with just enough room between opposite bed frames to stand and turn around. 

"I call bottom bunk!" Luhan announces as they roll their luggage down the corridor, looking for their cabin. 

Their roommates are already there when they arrive, occupying both lower bunk beds. 

"Excuse me, young men," one of their roommates, an old granny, wheezes. "I hope you don't mind letting my husband and me sleep on the lower beds. You see, our bodies aren't what they used to be, so even if we did climb onto the upper bunks, I'm not sure we would ever come back down again!"

"Yeah, sure, we don't mind at all!" Joonmyun says cheerfully. He steps into the cabin to climb onto the bunk bed ladder, but Luhan grabs him by the back of the shirt and pulls him into the hallway again. 

"This isn't going to work," Luhan mutters gravely.

"Why not?"

"I can't sleep in the top bunk."

"Well we certainly can't ask the nice old couple if one of them is willing to take an upper bunk!" Joonmyun protests. 

"No, you don't understand. I just can't. I'll sleep in the hallway."

"No, you won't. What's the matter?"

Luhan grimaces and then confides in a low voice, "I'm afraid of heights, Joonmyun."

"Oh," Joonmyun says, softening. "You could have just told me so! We can share a bunk, I'll protect you from falling."

"The beds are really small," Luhan says in a small, uncertain voice. 

"It'll be cozy. I promise it'll be fine. I won't let anything happen to you. Don't sleep in the corridor, okay? It's cold, and people might step on you."

"Okay. Okay, I can do this. I think."

"Yes, you can!" Joonmyun says encouragingly, squeezing Luhan's hand. "I'll climb up after you."

The couple is fast asleep when they return to the cabin, the husband snoring lightly. Luhan holds on nervously to Joonmyun's hips as Joonmyun unfolds the ladder from the top bunk. 

"I'll stand right here," Joonmyun whispers, holding his arms out. "I'll catch you in case you fall."

"You'll be crushed, I'm too heavy for you," Luhan hisses back as he plants a foot on the bottom rung. 

"Then don't fall."

With shaking ankles and wrists, Luhan slowly hoists himself onto the bunk bed. The mattress squeaks and groans under his weight as he shifts around, arranging his blankets. A few moments later, Joonmyun joins him under the sheets. There's barely enough room for the two of them on the twin-sized mattress, but Luhan wouldn't have been able to sleep if he was alone. 

"We made it," Joonmyun breathes, his lips just inches away from Luhan's. 

The train lurches, rattling their carriage, and Luhan grabs Joonmyun in panic. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Luhan mutters. "I fucking hate this, I'm gonna fall off this bed."

"No you won't. I won't let you fall," Joonmyun promises gently, but firmly. He holds onto Luhan tighter, closer, to illustrate his point. "Let's just take slow, deep breaths together, okay?"

"O-okay."

Luhan closes his eyes and focuses on the sensation of air circulating through his lungs, the feeling of Joonmyun's chest slowly rising and falling against his own. 

When he feels calm again, Luhan peeks at Joonmyun and sees in the dimness that Joonmyun had fallen asleep with his mouth open. Luhan wipes the corner of Joonmyun's mouth with the pad of his thumb and gently pushes his lips shut. Seeing Joonmyun's sleepy face puts Luhan at peace, so he closes his eyes and lets sleep sweep him away, as well. 

 

Beijing is cold, but bright on the day of Joonmyun's return. He looks through the window of his taxi at towering, glittering mosaics of metal and glass surrounding them on all sides.

"Did you miss it?" Luhan asks. "Beijing?"

"Yeah," Joonmyun's admits. "I think I did."

"Me too. No matter where I go, when I come back home I always realize how much I love this city—the people, the streets, the skyscrapers. I still fucking hate the smog, though. But look outside today. It's beautiful. The sky is actually blue."

"Is that rare?" Joonmyun asks uncertainly. 

"Very," Luhan confirms. "Blue skies in Beijing, I can't believe it. Today must be a special day."

The taxi pulls over onto the curb of an apartment complex tucked away at the end of a cul-de-sac. Joonmyun follows Luhan through a quaint courtyard with kids playing on the grass and neighborhood cats lounging in a gazebo. 

"This looks like a really nice place to live," Joonmyun observes with a note of awe in his voice. 

"When you're a bachelor, it doesn't really matter where you live, but I thought this would be a nice place for a family."

"Just how many cats are you planning to adopt?"

"I wasn't talking about cats. I was talking about you, idiot. But I guess we could adopt a pet, if you want. Are you a cat or dog person?"

"Dog person, for sure," Joonmyun answers unhesitatingly. He adds quickly, "Not that you have to go out and adopt a dog for my sake."

"There isn't anything within my power that I wouldn't do for you," Luhan says seriously. "I've had a lot of time to think these past few months, and I decided that there was no way I would ever deserve you if I didn't give you my all."

"Luhan..." Joonmyun mumbles, feeling his chest seize with emotion. 

"But always remember that just because I love you more than anything doesn't mean that I won't fire you if your work is sloppy. I expect a certain standard of excellence among all my employees."

Joonmyun bites his lip to hide his amused smile. "I understand. Sounds like a deal."

Having spent most of his adult years on the move from job to job, Joonmyun owns few possessions other than what fits within his suitcase. It doesn't take long for him to move into Luhan's apartment. 

"Um, let me lay down some house rules, just because I'm fucking neurotic about this kind of thing," Luhan says apologetically. "But please unplug any electronics that aren't in use. And turn off the lights when you leave the room. Don't leave the faucet running, or the refrigerator open. I know it doesn't make a huge difference but it drives me fucking crazy to see so much water and electricity wasted in this city."

"No, it's okay. I completely agree. That's stuff I do anyways," Joonmyun grins. "You're a good person, Luhan."

"That's not something I hear everyday," Luhan mumbles, trying not to blush. "Anyways, we have the rest of the weekend to ourselves before we get back to the office on Monday. I thought we could go to out and have some fun tonight, but is there anything you want to do until then? We've got a few hours to kill."

"Nothing in particular," Joonmyun hums. He starts unzipping Luhan's jacket. "I wouldn't mind just spending some time with you."

"I...um...I don't own a television. By the way."

"That's fine, we can find some other ways to amuse ourselves."

Luhan's jacket is tossed on the sofa, and Joonmyun sets to work on his button-down. 

"Fuck. Okay," Luhan says. "Fuck."

Joonmyun's palms slide down from Luhan's bare shoulders to his hands, and they link fingers as they kiss. 

"Bedroom?" Joonmyun asks when they break apart to catch their breaths. 

"This way."

Luhan undresses Joonmyun slowly, reverently, making him gasp as Luhan teases Joonmyun through his boxer briefs. 

"You're so good, Joonmyun. So, so good," he murmurs when he guides his cock into Joonmyun's twitching entrance. "You're so beautiful like this."

Luhan's voice is different from its usual aloof, impersonal tone. Now it's gentle and low, and he’s softly slurring the ends of his sentences as he reminds Joonmyun again and again how beautiful he is, and how much he loves him. 

"You're so embarrassing," Joonmyun giggles. His laughter, high and breathy, is punctuated by gasps and moans as Luhan thrusts into him. 

"I heard you're into this kind of thing," Luhan murmurs suggestively. He proceeds to pinch and tug Joonmyun's nipples between his fingers before laving over them with his tongue. 

"W-who told you?" Joonmyun whimpers. "Fuck."

"I have my sources," Luhan smirks. 

Joonmyun squirming and bucking up from beneath him sends spasms down Luhan's body, curling his toes. He reaches down to jerk Joonmyun off thoroughly, capturing his urgent, desperate noises with his lips. 

"That was fucking amazing," Luhan laughs in the afterglow. 

"Yeah," Joonmyun agrees. His body is still thrumming, pulsating with the thrill of sex. His heart is also beating wildly, but not exactly for the same reasons. 

They close their eyes and move simultaneously, like their minds are thinking together, to share a warm, soft kiss. And then Joonmyun just loses himself in Luhan's eyes, only glancing down to notice a stray eyelash on Luhan's cheek. He reaches out to flick it away with his fingertip, but he pokes Luhan in the eye by accident.

"Fuck!" Luhan growls in surprise. He blinks rapidly to alleviate some of the pain. 

"Oh god, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Joonmyun wails, close to panicking. "I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to hurt you."

He's close to tears when Luhan can finally see through both eyes again. "Don't worry about it. You didn't hurt me."

"Are you sure?" Joonmyun asks worriedly. 

"I'm fine," Luhan reassures him once more. "Really."

"Are you sure? Getting poked in the eye hurts a lot."

"Maybe a kiss would make it better."

"Yeah, sure! I can do that if it helps!"

Joonmyun kisses him, and Luhan teases, "A kiss on the lips? Interesting."

"I wasn't going to kiss your eye, that would be weird. But it helped, right?"

"Yeah. I'd say that it did. By the way, I love you so much. In case you didn't know."

"Bet you didn't know that I love you more."

 

_Epilogue:_

Three years and two pet dogs later, Luhan feels for the first time in years like he's part of a real family. Each night, he comes home with Joonmyun to Byul and Hae, their Scottish terriers. Maybe once Luhan might have thought of this domestic lifestyle as boring, but now that he's closer to thirty than he is to twenty, it's all he really wants. 

"You're home later than usual," Joonmyun comments when Luhan returns from the office on another blue-skied day in May. 

"Sorry," Luhan murmurs, giving Joonmyun a contrite kiss. "I had an errand to run."

"Oh?"

"Top secret, of course. Government classified. They'd have my head if I told anyone."

"Shut up," Joonmyun scoffs. "I just wanted to make sure we'd have some time to spend together since tomorrow–"

"Is your birthday, I know. I'd never forget it, even if I forgot my own name." 

"Did this errand have anything to do with my birthday present, then?" Joonmyun asks eagerly. 

"You're just like a kid!" Luhan laughs. 

"Well, did it?"

"No, it was just a regular errand," Luhan says innocently. "I needed to buy some more toilet paper for the office."

Joonmyun narrows his eyes suspiciously, and then finally concedes, "People are still complaining about that rule."

"They always do."

The real reason why Luhan returned home a couple of hours after Joonmyun is buried deep in his left pocket. He holds the velvet ring box securely in his fist as he crouches down to greet their dogs. 

When Joonmyun is in bed later that night with their dogs curled up by his feet, Luhan hovers by his desk, setting his phone alarm to three am. 

"So are we going to sleep together or what?" Joonmyun grumbles. 

"Coming, coming, sorry."

He slips his phone under his pillow before turning to pay attention to his sleepy, grumpy boyfriend. 

The brush of Joonmyun's bare arm against Luhan's chest still sends a thrill down Luhan's body. He inhales deeply the scent of Joonmyun's warm throat. 

"I love you so fucking much," he whispers. 

"I know," Joonmyun mumbles contentedly. 

Joonmyun is the heavier sleeper of the two, but Luhan turns off his vibrating phone in a panic when the alarm goes off just to make sure it won't wake Joonmyun up. It's three in the morning, and Joonmyun is still fast asleep. Luhan was too nervous to fall asleep for more than a few minutes at a time, despite Joonmyun's gentle urges for him to relax earlier in the night. 

He quietly slips out of bed, taking care not to shift the mattress too much. The zipper on his backpack is a challenge, as every sound is magnified in the silence. But finally, Luhan manages to fish the engagement ring out from an inside pocket. 

"Fuck," Luhan mouths inaudibly when he sees the position Joonmyun is sleeping in. 

The plan had been to slip the engagement ring onto Joonmyun's finger while he was asleep. And then Luhan would make him breakfast the next morning, waiting for Joonmyun to react to the ring that would magically appear on his finger. But unfortunately, Joonmyun is sleeping with his hands tucked underneath his pillow. 

Luhan gingerly tries to pull Joonmyun's left hand from under the pillow, but Joonmyun's head weighs too heavily on it. He yanks Joonmyun's hand out in an attempt to jam the ring onto his finger as swiftly as possible. 

"Luhan?" Joonmyun mumbles, blinking sleepily before Luhan can successfully do so. "What's going on?"

At that moment, Byul and Hae decide to also wake up, barking in confusion and adding to the chaos. 

"Shit," Luhan hisses, closing the ring tightly in his fist. He consoles the dogs, soothing them back to sleep before turning back to Joonmyun. "You must be really fucking confused right now. This definitely isn't how it was supposed to go, but I guess there's no turning back now."

He laughs nervously, and Joonmyun asks, "What are you talking about, Luhan?"

Joonmyun sits up, but Luhan continues to kneel by the bed. 

"I'm a fucking mess, Joonmyun. All my pieces are jagged, and none of them fit together right. But for these past three years, you’ve held me together. And you’ve made me so fucking happy every day of my life. No matter how much time we spend together, it's never enough. All I want to do is to make it forever." Luhan opens his fist, revealing the engagement ring, silvery and shining even in the dimness and asks, "Kim Joonmyun, will you marry me?"

 

Joonmyun stares in disbelief at the gleaming band of silver, unable to process what is happening for an agonizing few seconds. "Y-yes," he finally stammers when he realizes that he isn’t dreaming. "Fuck yes."

"You had me scared for a minute," Luhan laughs, slipping the ring onto Joonmyun's finger. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Joonmyun sobs as he hugs Luhan tightly. "I love you so much."

"Isn't that the point?" Luhan murmurs before kissing Joonmyun. "I think we should go back to sleep, since it's three in the morning."

"I think I'm too excited to sleep now," Joonmyun admits, laughing again in amazement. 

"Then shall we start celebrating your birthday early?" Luhan suggests. 

"Sounds like a good idea to me!"

Luhan grins mischievously and scoops their dogs into his arms to carry them over to the living room. "Sleep well, kids," he whispers, easing them onto the sofa. 

He returns to the bedroom to begin the rest of his life with Joonmyun. 

 

 **A/N** : This last chapter was honestly one of my favorite things to write ever. Thanks for sticking with this story, and I especially want to thank those of you who commented and supported me over this past month while I was writing this fic! It’s been months since I’ve written anything this long, and I’ve had my final exams over this past week on top of cranking out the last two chapters in time for #suhoday. I finished my last exam today (and the last scene of this fic just minutes afterwards), so next step: graduation!


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